ill 


m 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs.   PAUL  M.   GRANT 


|P RANK  HELD  A  SPY  GLASS  FOR  LOUISE     "JE  VAIS  MA  PATRIE! 
EXCLAIMED  THE  YOIW*  GIRL,. 

1  'will  be  a  gentleman,  pa^a  60. 


I  WILL  BE  A  GENTLEMAN 


A  BOOK  FOR  BOYS 


By  MRS.  TUTIIILL. 


"  A  ruffle,  cravat,  or  a  cane, 
With  him  is  the  pink  of  perfection ; 

A  tassel  or  watch-key  he  deems 
The  very  tip-top  of  gentility; 

And  plain  common  sense  he  esteeo 
Scarpe  worthy  ot  decent  civility." 


THIRTY-SEVENTH  EDITION 

BOSTON: 
CROSBY    AND    NICHOLS. 

1863. 

LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


filtered  accoidirg  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1844,  by 
WILLIAM  CROSBY, 

in  the  Clerk's  office  of  tne  maitict  Court  for  the  District  of 

Massachusetts. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  JUTENILE  GENTLEMEN,  1 

II.  SENT  TO  SCHOOL,      ,  8 

III.  SISTERLY  AFFECTION,  18 

IV  A  RETURN,                .  25 

V.  JOSEPH  AT  HOME,  29 

VI.  A  SUDDEN  RESOLUTION,  35 

VII.  THE  GENTLEMAN  SAILOR,  38 

VIII.  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HOME,  46 

IX.  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES,  .  54 

X.  BEAU  BRANDON  ASHORE,  63 

XI.  THE  PARTING,       .        .  68 

XII.  A  STORM  AT  SEA,    .        .  72 

Kill.  A  SAIL,          .        .  82 

XIV.  FATAL,       ...  87 

XV.  REMEMBERED  KINDNESS,  99 

XVI.  A  SURPRISE,                                      .  102 

XVII.  THE  AZORES,                 .  110 

XVIII.  HOMEWARD  BOUND,  .  117 

XIX.  HOME,    ...  125 

XX.  ANOTHER  MEETING,  131 

XXI.  BETTER  HOPES,     .        .  137 

XXII.  AN   UNEXPECTED    RESOLVE,  ,  .       143 


CHAPTER  I. 


JUVENILE  GENTLEMEN. 

I  WILL  be  a  gentleman !  Why  ?  because  you 
whisk  about  a  little  dandy  cane,  smoke  cigars, 
and  toss  your  hat  on  one  side  of  your  head  ?  Is 
that  the  way  to  be  a  gentleman  ? 

One  afternoon,  last  spring,  there  had  been  a 
sudden  gust  of  wind  and  a  slight  shower  of  rain. 
It  soon  passed  over,  the  sun  shone  out  brightly, 
and  the  rain-drops  sparkled  like  diamonds  upon 
the  trees  of  Boston  Common. 

The  Boston  boys  love  the  Common,  and  well 
they  may,  for  where  could  they  find  a  more  glo- 
rious play-ground  ?  During  the  shower  the  boys 
had  taken  shelter  under  the  trees ;  as  soon  as  it 
had  passed  they  resumed  their  amusements. 

On  one  of  the  crossings,  or  walks,  appeared  a 
small,  plainly-dressed  old  woman,  with  a  cane  in 
1 


2  JUVENILE   GENTLEMEN. 

one  hand  and  a  large  green  umbrella  in  the  other* 
She  was  bent  with  age  and  infirmity,  and  walked 
slowly.  The  green  umbrella  was  open,  and 
turned  up  in  the  most  comical  manner.  The 
wind  had  suddenly  reversed  it,  without  the  knowl* 
edge  or  consent  of  the  old  lady,  and  she  now 
held  it  in  one  hand,  like  a  huge  flower  with  a 
long  stalk. 

"  Hurrah !  hurrah !  "  cried  one  of  the  boys, 
pointing  to  the  umbrella,  "  mammoth  cabbages 
for  sale  !  mammoth  cabbages  !  " 

The  whole  rabble  of  boys  joined  in  the  cry, 
and  ran  hooting  after  the  poor  old  woman.  She 
looked  around  at  them  with  grave  wonder,  and 
endeavoured  to  hasten  her  tottering  footsteps. 

They  still  pursued  her,  and  at  length  began 
pelting  with  pebbles  the  up-standing  umbrella ; 
some  crying  "  Mammoth  cabbages !  "  and  others, 
"New-fashioned  sun-shades ! " 

She  turned  again,  and  said,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  "  What  have  I  done,  my  little  lads,  that  you 
should  thus  trouble  me  ?  " 

"It  is  a  shame,"  said  a  neatly  dressed,  fine 
looking  boy,  who  rushed  through  the  crowd  to 
the  rescue  of  the  poor  old  woman. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "  your  umbrella  has  turn- 


JUVENILE   GENTLEMEN.  3 

bd  in  the  wind ;  will  you  allow  me  to  slose  it  for 
you  ?" 

"Thank  you,"  she  replied.  "Then  that  is 
what  those  boys  are  hooting  at.  Well,  it  does 
look  funny,"  added  she,  as  she  looked  at  the 
cause  of  their  merriment.  The  kind-hearted  boy 
endeavoured  to  turn  it  down,  but  it  was  no  easy 
task ;  the  whalebones  seemed  obstinately  bent 
upon  standing  upright. 

The  boys  now  changed  the  object  of  their  at- 
tack, and  the  pebbles  rattled  like  hail  upon  the 
manly  fellow  who  was  struggling  to  relieve  the 
poor  woman  from  her  awkward  predicament. 

"You  are  a  mean  fellow,  to  spoil  our  fun," 
said  they ;  "  but  you  can't  come  it ;  you  can't 
come  it ;  cabbage  leaves  will  grow  upward." 

He  however  at  length  succeeded,  and,  closing 
the  troublesome  umbrella,  handed  it  to  the  old 
woman  with  a  polite  bow. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you>  a  thousand  times,  Sir," 
said  she,  "and  I  should  like  to  know  your  name, 
that  I  may  repay  you  whenever  I  can  find  an 
opportunity." 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  he,  "  T  am  happy  to 
ftave  rendered  you  this  trifling  service  ; "  and  he 
walkei  away. 


4  JUVENILE   GENTLEMEN. 

*'  Well,"  said  she,  "  whoever  you  are  your 
father  and  mother  have  reason  to  be  proud  of 
you,  for  you  are  a  gentleman, — a  perfect  gen- 
tleman." 

And  so  he  will  be ;  and  I  wish  I  could  tell  you 
his  name,  that  you  may  see  if  my  prophecy  does 
not  prove  true. 

"  Manners  make  the  man,"  you  may  often  have 
written  in  very  legible  characters  in  your  copy- 
book ;  they  certainly  do  go  very  far  towards 
making  the  gentleman. 

I  knew  a  boy  once  who  thought  a  "  long  coat," 
as  he  called  it,  would  make  him  a  gentleman. 
Christopher,  (for  so  I  shall  take  the  liberty  to 
call  him,  though  that  was  not  his  real  name,) 
Christopher  lived  in  the  country,  and  was  going 
to  New  York,  on  his  first  visit.  His  father  was 
very  indulgent,  and,  yielding  to  his  entreaty,  al- 
lowed the  country  tailor  to  make  Christopher  a 
blue  broadcloth  dress-coat,  with  bright  gilt  but- 
tons. Silly  boy !  he  was  mightily  pleased  with 
his  beautiful  coat,  and  tried  it  on  again  and  again, 
and  almost  wrung  his  neck  to  see  how  it  fitted 
him  in  the  back  and  about  the  shoulders.  He 
did  not  wear  it,  for  fear  of  taking  off  the  gloss, 
till  he  got  to  New  York.  No  sooner  had  he  step. 


JUVENILE   GENTLEMEN.  O 

ped  upon  the  dock  there,  than  one  of  the  boys 
belonging  to  the  gang  that  always  assemble  about 
the  steamboat  landings  espied  the  glossy  new  coat. 
u  Mister !  Mister !  "  said  he,  "  how  much  will  you 
take  for  your  long-tailed  coat  ?  " 

A  country  lad,  somewhat  older  than  Christo- 
pher, who  had  before  visited  the  city,  was  to  be 
his  guide  through  the  great  metropolis.  They 
hurried  along  without  taking  much  notice  of  the 
insult,  Christopher  merely  saying,  "  I  suppose 
these  are  what  they  call  dock-rats." 

But  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  get  rid  of  the  mis- 
chievous rogues.  A  whole  troop  of  young  tatter- 
demalions followed,  crying  "  Mister !  Mister ! 
what  will  you  take  for  the  long-tailed  blue  ?  " 

Christopher  turned  an  imploring  look  towards 
them,  which  struck  them  as  peculiarly  ludicrous, 
for  they  began  imitating  it,  with  their  thumbs  on 
their  noses  and  their  fingers  in  rapid  motion, 

The  country  boys,  quite  dismayed,  started 
upon  a  full  run,  the  skirts  of  Christopher's  coat 
flying  out  behind  him,  like  the  tail  of  a  kite. 
Their  persecutors  took  mud  from  the  gutters 
<ind  threw  after  them,  crying,  "  Look  out  for  the 
brassy  buttons  !  there  goes  Tom  Thumb,  junior." 

Christopher  and   his  companion  were   at  last 


6  JUVENILE   GENTLEMEN. 

obliged  to  take  refuge  in  a  shop,  and  when  the 
"dock-rats"  had  dispersed,  they  sneaked  back 
to  the  steamboat.  Christopher  took  off  his 
mud-bespattered  coat,  his  once  beautiful,  glossy 
coat,  and,  putting  on  his  old  round-about  jacket, 
sagely  concluded  that  the  coat  does  not  make 
the  gentleman. 

"  Bill  what  are  you,  a  Loco-Foco  or  a  Whig  ?  '* 
said  one  of  these  would-be-gentleman  to  a  boy 
about  his  own  age ;  they  might  have  been  each 
twelve  years  old,  or  thereabouts. 

"  I  am  a  Loco-Foco,  'cause  mother  is  a  Whig. 
She  is  for  ever  talking  about  it ;  and  it  is  my  opin- 
ion that  women  have  notning  to  do  with  politics, 
and  I  should  be  ashamed  to  be  what  my  mar 
wants  to  have  me.  That 's  the  reason  1  am  such 
a  raving,  tearing  Loco-Foco." 

"  That 's  right,  Bill,'"  was  the  reply,  "you  had 
just  as  lief  your  anxious  mar  would  know  you 
are  out  as  not." 

"  Sure  I  had  !  None  of  your  mammy-calves 
for  me.  I  am  thankful  that  I  shall  be  a  man 
before  my  mother."  So  saying,  the  youngster 
spit  out  the  tobacco-juice  from  his  mouth  in  the 
most  approved  manner.  The  accomplishment 
must  have  required  a  great  deal  of  practice. 


JUVENILE   GENTLEMEN.      <  7 

"  Their  feet  perhaps  may  want  a  shoe, 

Yet  they  are  patriots  through  and  through, 
Their  tongues  can  for  their  country  roar, 
As  loud  as  twenty  men  or  more.  " 

Disrespect  for  a  mother's  opinion,  certainly, 
never  will  make  a  boy  u  gen^atiiUii.  The  wisest 
and  best  men  that  ever  lived  have  acknowledged, 
with  gratitude,  that  they  owed  iheir  wisdom  and 
goodness  more  to  their  mother's  influence  than 
any  other  earthly  cause.  It  is  a  very  bad  sign 
when  a  boy  or  a  man  speaks  disrespectfully  of 
his  mother. 

Women,  it  is  true,  have  not  much  to  do  with 
politics,  but  they  have  a  right  to  an  opinion,  and 
hey  often  form  correct  ones. 


CHATTER 


SENT  TO  SCHOOL. 

JOSEPH  BRANDON  was  a  boy  who  did  not  respect 
his  mother's  opinion ;  yet  she  was  a  good  woman, 
an  excellent  woman.  Joe  wanted  to  be  a  gentle- 
man, and  did  not  like  to  be  tied  to  his  mother's 
apron-string.  She  was  a  widow,  and  Joe  was  her 
only  son.  She  had  a  house  of  her  own,  and  a 
snug,  pretty  house  it  was ;  and  she  had  a  small 
but  comfortable  income  from  well-invested  funds. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  to  send  Joe  to  col- 
lege, and  for  this  purpose  she  instructed  her  two 
daughters  at  home,  —  that  she  might  save  by  that 
means  enough  to  educate  her  son  in  the  best  pos- 
sible manner.  The  two  girls,  Susan  and  Fanny, 
were  affectionate  and  kind  to  their  mother,  and 
as  nice,  pretty  girls  as  one  would  wish  to  see. 

Joe   was    the   most  tormenting    tease   to   his 


SENT   TO    SCHOOL.  l) 

sisters.  He  pulled  the  ears  of  Susan's  favorite 
kitten  every  time  he  could  get  a  chance.  He 
trampled  upon  the  flower-beds  in  Fanny's  little 
garden.  Because  Susan  had  a  small  nose,  he  gave 
her  the  '  sobriquet  of  Pug  ;  and  Fanny,  who  had 
light  brown  hair,  he  called  Tow.  In  short,  he  in- 
vented every  possible  way  to  make  them  uncom 
fortable,  until  Mrs.  Brandon  concluded  that  she 
must  send  Joe  away  to  school.  He  had  got  en- 
tirely beyond  her  management,  and  had  not  the 
least  respect  for  her  opinions. 

The  morning  came  for  Joe's  departure  for 
school.  His  kind  mother  had  prepared  every 
thing  for  his  comfort  in  the  neatest  order.  His 
sisters  had  each  secretly  put  a  little  packet  of 
"  goodies  "  into  Joe's  carpet  bag,  that  he  was  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  coming  upon  unexpectedly, 
when  far  from  home. 

The  stagecoach  was  at  the  door.  Joe  drew 
on  his  new  kid  gloves  with  a  very  important  air, 
and  called  out  to  the  driver,  "  Here,  fellow,  come 
and  take  my  luggage."  It  was  carried  out. 

"  Good  by,  mother,"  said  he,  in  a  swaggering 
kind  of  indifferent  manner. 

"  Stop,  Joseph,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Brandon, 
"  are  you  not  going  to  give  us  one  kiss  before 


10  SENT   TO    SCHOOL. 

you  leave  ?  We  shall  not  see  you  again  in  a  very 
long  time." 

"  Do  n't  make  such  a  baby  of  me,  mother,"  he 
replied,  pushing  her  aside,  and  rushing  out. 

u  God  bless  you  my  son  ;  be  a  good  boy,"  said 
she. 

"  Pug  and  Tow,  good  by,"  said  Joe,  springing 
upon  the  top  of  the  stagecoach.  The  driver 
snapped  his  whip  and  the  horses  went  off  at  full 
speed. 

Mrs.  Brandon  and  the  girls  went  back  into  their 
little  parlour  and  sat  down  and  wept  together  right 
heartily.  Ah,  how  little  do  men  know  of  the 
tenderness  of  woman's  affection !  Although  Jo- 
seph Brandon  had  tyrannized  over  his  mother 
and  sisters,  and  been  a  continual  trouble  to  them, 
no  sooner  had  he  left  them  than  they  forgot  all 
his  faults,  and  loved  him  dearly,  as  a  son  and 
brother. 

Joe's  first  letter  home  will  give  an  account  of 
his  journey.  It  was  as  follows : 

DEAR  MOTHER  :  — 

You  told  me  to  write  to  you  as  soon  I  could,  I 
only  arrived  yesterday. 

I  met  with  a  little  bit  of  an  accident  on  the 


SENT   TO    SCHOOL.  11 

road.  There  was  a  big  fellow  on  the  top  of  the 
coach  who  took  it  into  his  head  to  be  very  saucy 
to  me.  He  was  a  travelling  pedler,  or  some  such 
sort  of  thing,  with  his  box  of  jewelry,  spectacles, 
&c.,  who  had  got  tired  of  trudging,  and  had 
coaxed  the  driver  to  give  him  a  lift  for  a  mile  or 
two. 

I  would  not  bear  the  vulgar  fellow's  imperti 
nence,  so  I  threw  his  box  of  gimcracks  into  thi, 
road.  He  made  a  mighty  fuss  about  it,  and  the 
driver  stopped  for  him  to  pick  it  up.  When  he 
opened  it,  the  glasses  of  some  of  the  spectacles 
were  broken,  and  several  of  the  crystals  to  his 
pewter  watches.  Would  you  believe  it,  he  threat- 
ened to  sue  my  parents  ?  But  I  took  out  five  dol- 
lars and  gave  him,  telling  him  another  time  to 
mind  who  he  was  saucy  to.  You  know,  mother, 
after  what  had  happened,  I  wanted  him  to  know 
that  he  had  insulted  a  gentleman.  I  do  n't  be- 
lieve his  whole  pedler-concern  was  worth  five  dol- 
lars, for  he  looked  at  the  money  with  surprise, 
and  all  the  people  in  the  coach  seemed  to  feel 
that  I  was  somebody. 

You  know,  mother,  that  was  all  the  money  I 
had  with  me,  and  therefore  I  expect  by  return  of 
mail  that  you  will  send  me  some  more. 


12  SENT   TO    SCHOOL. 

I  do  n't  know  yet  how  I  shall  like  the  school. 
Tell  Pug  that  there  is  a  boy  in  our  school  whose 
nose  has  just  such  a  turn  up  as  hers,  and  there 
are  Tow-heads  in  abundance. 

From  your  affectionate  son, 

JOSEPH  BRANDON. 

The  widow  had  given  her  son  the  five  dollars 
for  spending  money,  for  the  whole  term.  She 
had  not  a  dollar  left  in  her  own  purse.  What 
could  be  done  ?  The  girls  read  the  letter. 

"  I  would  not  send  him  a  fourpence,"  said  Su- 
san. "  Extravagant  fellow  !  and  so  foolish,  too,  to 
give  five  dollars  to  a  pedler  to  show  him  he  was  a 
gentleman !  Mother,  let  him  go  without  money 
a  while,  till  he  knows  better  how  to  use  it." 

"  But,"  said  Fanny,  whose  affectionate  disposi- 
tion ever  led  her  to  self-sacrificing  kindness, — 
"  but,  mother,  he  may  want  something  that  we 
have  not  thought  of;  I  will  send  him  the  gold 
piece  that  Aunt  Mary  gave  me  last  Christmas." 

"  No,  my  dear  child,"  quickly  replied  Mrs. 
Brandon,  "  you  ought  not  do  to  that.  Poor  fel- 
low, I  do  not  know  what  will  happen  if  he  should 
need  any  thing  among  strangers." 

"  He  shall  have  it,  he  shall  have  it,"  exclaimed 
Fanny. 


SENT   TO   SCHOOL.  13 

"  A  part  of  it,  my  child,"  said  Mrs.  Brandon. 
16 1  am  sorry,  indeed,  to  have  your  dear  aunt's  gift 
changed  ;  but  if  you  will  lend  it  to  Joseph,  Mr. 
Fuller,  the  grocer,  will  change  it  for  you." 

Fanny's  sun-bonnet  was  on  in  a  moment,  and 
she  flitted,  like  a  bird,  across  the  street  with  the 
gold  piece,  and  soon  returned  with  a  two-dollar 
bill  and  a  three. 

"  Send  him  the  three,"  said  Fanny. 

"  The  two,  mother,  the  two,  "  said  Susan ;  "  Joe 
is  a  mean  fellow,  and  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  in- 
sulted the  man  first." 

"  I  will  send  him  the  two,"  said  the  widow,  and 
she  inclosed  it  in  the  following 

LETTER. 

MY  DEAR  JOSEPH  :  — 

It  is  with  deep  regret  that  I  am  compelled  to 
blame  you,  yet  much  to  blame  you  certainly 
are. 

Let  me  tell  you,  in  the  first  place,  that  I  had  no 
money  to  send  you;  the  inclosed  is  the  gift  of 
dear  little  Fanny,  who  changed  her  aunt's  pres- 
ent, the  favorite  gold-piece,  that  she  might  be 
able  to  aid  you. 

And  you  wish   to  be   a   gentleman,  Joseph, 


14  SENT   TO    SCHOOL. 

Was  it  like  one  to  get  into  a  quarrel  with  the 
pedler?  No;  it  was  much  more  like  a  swagger- 
ing  bully.  A  true  gentleman  is  quiet,  unobtrusive, 
and,  as  the  very  name  implies,  gentle.  I  know 
that  boys  of  your  age  very  generally  suppose 
that  noisy,  dashing  manners  mark  the  gentleman ; 
and  consider  a  mild,  peaceable  deportment  as  girl- 
ish in  the  extreme. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  the  famous  Bayard,  the 
chevalier  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,  had  very 
amiable  and  delicately  gentle  manners,  although 
he  was  the  bravest  of  the  brave. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney,  who  lived  in  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth  of  England,  was  a  man  of  remarkable 
bravery,  as  well  as  a  perfect  gentleman ;  it  was 
said  that  his  life  was  poetry  in  action.  Do  you 
suppose  that  he  had  the  bold,  swaggering  manners 
that  you  admire?  I  imagine  them  resembling 
sweet  music, — perfect  harmony, — soothing  and 
exalting  to  the  feelings. 

Our  own  Washington,  too,  with  his  noble  hero- 
ism, his  indomitable  spirit,  —  how  calm  and  quiet 
were  his  manners !  What  simple,  natural  digni- 
ty, with  the  refinement  and  chivalrous  politeness 
of  a  gentleman !  A  model  for  every  American 
boy. 


SENT   TO   SCHOOL.  15 

Lavish  expenditure  of  money  is  no  mark  of  a 
gentleman.  Give  to  every  one  what  is  justly  due 
and  be  capable  of  true  generosity.  You  must,  IL 
fact,  be  just,  before  you  can  be  generous.  How 
seldom  is  generosity  perfect  and  pure !  How 
often  do  men  give,  because  it  throws  a  certain 
inferiority  on  those  who  receive,  and  a  superi- 
ority on  themselves. 

Your  fellow-travellers,  Joseph,  were  not  im- 
posed upon  by  your  false  generosity  to  the  ped- 
ler.  They  probably  thought  you  a  very  foolish 
boy,  throwing  away  your  parents'  money.  You 
were  far  from  coming  off  triumphantly,  as  you 
imagined,  by  dashing  off  your  five  dollars.  You 
cannot  "  buy  golden  opinions  of  all  sorts  of 
men,"  with  money.  The  worldly  may  seek  the 
rich  and  the  prodigal  for  their  own  interest,  and 
to  answer  their  own  selfish  ends ;  respect  for  the 
man  himself  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the 
tribute  paid  to  his  wealth.  Besides,  you  are  not 
wealthy,  and  pretending  to  be  so  was  not  only 
folly,  but  sin. 

Do  you  not  suppose,  my  dear  Joseph,  that  the 
son  who  stayed  at  home  and  labored  faithfully 
with  his  father  was  more  of  a  gentleman  than 
the  Prodigal  Son?  Was  the  Prodigal  a  gentle- 


16  SENT   TO    SCHOOL - 

man,  when  spending  his  substance  in  "  riotous  liv- 
ing," any  more  than  when  he  sat  down  among 
the  swine,  and  would  have  eaten  with  them  of  the 
husks  ?  A  miserable  way,  indeed,  did  he  take  to 
be  a  gentleman,  and  yet  it  is  not  a  very  uncom- 
mon one.  Many  hard-working  fathers  and  moth- 
ers have  gentleman  sons,  idle  and  extravagant, 
very  like  the  Prodigal.  No  doubt  he  thought  he 
was  much  more  generous  and  noble-spirited  than 
his  brother.  I  can  even  conceive  of  his  thinking 
himself,  in  rags  and  dirt,  a  reduced  gentleman. 

Remember,  then,  my  son,  prodigality  is  no 
mark  of  a  gentleman. 

I  have  already  written  so  long  a  letter  that  I 
can  only  add  my  fervent  wishes  for  your  success 
at  school.  Be  obedient  and  studious. 

How  much  of  my  comfort  during  the  remain- 
der of  my  pilgrimage  depends  upon  you,  Joseph. 

"  When  I  am  feeble,  old  and  gray, 
Your  healthy  arm  must  be  my  stay, 
And  you  must  wipe  my  tears  away." 

How  sweetly  you  once  lisped  out  those  simple 
lines,  so  familiar  to  every  child, — and  I  fondly 
believed  that  your  heart  would  ever  be  true  to 
your  MOTHER. 

Susan  aid  Fanny  send  love. 


SENT   TO    SCHOOL.  17 

And  how  did  Joe  feel  on  the  reception  of  his 
mother's  letter  ?  He  glanced  his  eye  hastily  over 
it,  took  out  the  money,  and  exclaimed,  "  Only 
two  dollars — how  mean!"  then  threw  the  letter 
into  his  trunk,  and  tried  to  stifle  the  reproaches  of 
sonscience.  Alas!  too  well  did  he  succeed. 


CHAPTER  III, 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

SEVERAL  weeks  passed,  and  no  answer  was  re- 
turned to  his  mother.  Fanny  went  every  day  to 
the  post-office,  and  returned  home  disappointed. 
Susan  said  it  was  just  like  him  not  to  write,  but 
she  would  bring  a  letter ;  so  she  immediately  wrote 
**ie  following  epistle :  — 

A  pretty  fellow  are  you,  Joe,  not  to  answer 
dear  mother's  kind  letter !  Here  we  haunt  the 
post-office,  week  after  week,  till  I  am  absolutely 
ashamed.  Poor  Fanny  says  nothing,  but  tries  to 
comfort  us.  You  know  it  was  her  money  that 
you  received,  and  you  have  not  even  thanked  her. 

My  pet,  Snowball,  is  growing  so  cat-like  that 
I  have  discarded  her,  and  taken  to  petting  your 
poor  old  Hero,  who  really  grieves  at  your  ab- 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION.  19 

sence.     His  faithfulness  to  his   master  is  really 
touching. 

I  do  not  think  that  you  behave  well,  but  yet 
you  are  my  brother,  and  in  spite  of  all  your 
naughtiness  I  love  you.  I  have  not  much  news 
to  tell  you.  We  have  almost  finished  Old  Rol- 
lin,  only  twenty  pages  more  to  read.  Mother 
has  already  begun  to  knit  your  winter  stockings, 
and  seems  to  think  of  you  every  minute. 

It  is  a  great  etFort  for  me  to  write,  for  you  know 
I  am  not  very  literary,  and  you  will,  I  am  sure, 
acknowledge  this  from  your  sister, 

SUE, 

Like  many  other  mothers,  Mrs.  Brandon  was 
willing  to  make  every  personal  sacrifice  for  her 
son,  hoping  that  he  might  become  a  good  and 
useful  man,  Fearing  that  her  means  would  not 
be  sufficient  to  carry  him  through  college,  sha 
dismissed  her  only  domestic,  and  with  the  aid  of 
her  daughters  performed  all  the  household  labor. 
She  did  not,  in  consequence,  neglect  their  in- 
tellectual culture.  Neither  did  she  lose  her 
lady-like  appearance,  or  allow  her  daughters  to 
be  neglectful  of  theirs.  Every  person,  capable 
of  judging,  would  have  said  that  Mrs.  Brandon 


20  SISIERLY  AFFECTION. 

was  a  lady,  and  that  her  daughters  were  becom- 
ing more  and  more  like  their  mother. 

Joseph,  soon  after  the  reception  of  Susan's  let- 
ter, wrote  a  short  but  dutiful  one  to  his  mother, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  following  to  his  sister 
Fanny, 

DEAR  LITTLE  Tow :  — 

It  was  very  kind  in  you  to  change  your  beloved 
gold  for  me.  If  you  will  send  me  the  remaining 
three  dollars  I  will  send  you  the  first  gold-piece 
that  I  get,  and  you  shall  again  admire  the  effect 
through  the  meshes  of  your  little  purse. 

Do  n't  say  a  word  to  mother  about  this  letter. 
It  is  a  matter  between  ourselves.  I  want  a  new 
cap  desperately.  Mine  is  a  shabby  countrified 
thing,  of  a  different  fashion  from  what  the  boys 
wear  here,  and  you  know  I  must  appear  like  a 
gentleman^  for  one  of  these  days  I  shall  be  one, 
and  then  I  will  see  that  mother,  and  Susan,  and 
you,  live  in  elegant  style,  and  have  every  thing 
you  wish.  Susan  is  not  as  generous  as  you, 
Fanny,  ant  therefore  you  must  not  tell  her  about 
the  money.  Just  inclose  the  bank-note  carefully 
in  a  letter,  and  put  it  into  the  post-office  director1 
to  mo.  I  know  you  will  oblige  your  brother, 

JOSEPH. 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION.  21 

Fanny  was  an  amiable,  affectionate  little  girl 
only  eleven  years  old.  She  had  never  written 
a  letter  to  send  through  the  post-office.  She  had 
never  done  any  thing  without  her  mother's  con- 
sent, and  it  was  a  fearful  task  that  her  brother 
had  imposed  upon  her.  She  feared  it  was  wrong 
to  do  as  he  requested,  but  her  brother's  letter 
seemed  to  her  youthful  fancy  so  kind,  so  affec- 
tionate, and  so  great  was  her  desire  to  oblige 
him,  that  after  a  violent  struggle  in  her  own  mind 
she  determined  to  send  him  the  money. 

She  took  her  little  writing-desk  into  her  own 
room,  and  sat  down,  trembling,  to  write. 

She  made  several  attempts  before  she  sue- 
ceeded  to  her  own  satisfaction,  and,  indeed,  she 
was  not  very  well  satisfied  at  last. 

DEAR  JOSEPH  :  — 

I  am  very  sorry  that  you  do  not  wish  me  to  tell 
mother  about  this  money  that  I  now  send  to  you* 
She  would  not  tell  me  not  to  send  it,  I  am  sure» 
because  you  really  want  it.  I  hope  it  is  not 
vrong  to  write  without  her  knowing  it.  O,  do 
try  to  make  a  good  man.  Our  dear  mother  praya 
for  you  every  morning  and  night,  and  talks  about 
you  a  great  deal 


22  SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

I  am  so  afraid  Susan  will  come  up  stairs,  ana 
find  me  writing,  that  I  must   stop.     O,  dear !  I 
have  got  to  put  this  in  the  post-office,  and  I  shall 
remble  so.     I  shall  feel  like  a  little  thief. 
From  your  loving  sister, 

FANN. 

P.  S.  You  won't  call  us  Pug  and  Tow  any 
more,  will  you  ?  Susan's  nose  is  really  quite 
pretty,  and  my  hair  grows  darker  every  day. 

Fanny  did  feel  as  she  said  she  should,  "  like  a 
little  thief,"  when  she  stealthily  stole  to  the  office 
and  deposited  her  letter. 

Joe  must  have  felt  as  meanly  as  if  he  had  been 
robbing  a  hen-roost  when  he  took  out  the  three 
dollars.  He  did.  But  then  he  thought  immedi- 
ately how  necessary  it  was  that  he  should  look 
tike  a  gentleman,  —  and  he  went  and%  bought  a 
new  black  cloth  cap  with  a  very  large  tassel,  and 
strutted  about  in  a  very  consequential  manner. 

The  next  Saturday  evening,  Mrs.  Brandon  and 
lier  daughters  sat  in  their  neat  little  piazza,  ad- 
mu-ing  the  rich  glow  of  a  golden  sunset-sky. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  prelude  to  the  Lord's  day," 
said  Mr3.  Brandon.  "Sunday  was  originally 
married  after  that  glorious  luminary,  but  it  should 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION.  23 

remind  us  now  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  who 
has  risen  with  healing  in  his  beams." 

The  labors  of  the  week  were  past.  In  the 
soothing  calmness  of  the  quiet  evening,  the  wid- 
ow's heart  expanded  with  gratitude  to  her  Heav- 
enly Father.  She  remembered  that  there  was  to 
be  a  contribution  at  church  the  next  day,  for  a 
benevolent  object  in  which  she  was  deeply  inter- 
ested. 

"  Fanny,  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  must  borrow  your 
three-dollar  note  for  the  contribution-box  to-mor- 
row. I  have  no  smaller  sum  by  me  than  ten, 
and  I  cannot  afford  to  give  so  much.  In  the 
course  of  the  week  I  will  pay  you  my  debt,  for 
I  have  not  forgotten  that  I  am  to  restore  your 
pretty  pocket-piece." 

Fanny  blushed,  hesitated,  and  trembled. 

"What  ails  you,  sister  ?"  said  Susan,  "you 
were  willing  enough  to  give  Joseph  the  money , 
why  are  you  unwilling  to  lend  it  to  mother." 

"  Well,  my  dear  child,"  said  her  kind  mother, 
"I  will  not  take  your  last  dollar;  perhaps  it  is 
not  right  to  borrow  it  even  for  a  benevolent  pur- 
pose." 

"O  mother!  dear  mother,"  cried  Fanny, 
throwing  her  arms  around  her  mother's  neck, 


24  SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

"I  have  not  the  money  to  lend  you,  but  don't 
ask  me  what  I  have  done  with  it,  for  I  must  not 
tell  you." 

"Perhaps  Joseph  could  tell  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Brandon,  sorrowfully,  for  the  truth  flashed  across 
her  mind. 

"  He  could,  mother,  he  could,"  sobbed  Fanny 

"  Just  like  him,  just  like  him,"  exclaimed  Su- 
san. 

That  night,  when  Mrs.  Brandon,  as  usual, 
prayed  for  the  absent  one,  it  was  with  a  mourn- 
Ail,  trembling  voice,  and  many,  many  tears. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


A  RETURN. 

JOSEPH  continued  at  school  from  month  to 
month,  and  when  his  vacations  came  he  made 
engagements  to  go  home  with  some  of  his  school- 
fellows, till  nearly  two  years  had  glided  away,  and 
in  all  that  time  he  had  not  once  seen  his  mother 
or  his  sisters. 

During  this  time  he  had  made  large  demands 
upon  his  mother  for  money.  He  had  got  into 
many  disgraceful  scrapes,  which  he  was  careftu 
should  not  reach  his  mother's  ears,  who  continued 
her  kindness  and  her  good  advice.  The  former 
he  received  when  it  came  in  a  substantial  form, 
the  latter  he  neither  valued  nor  heeded. 

Yet  the  kind  family  at  home  had  practised 
constant  self-denial ;  —  they  seemed  to  have  con* 
centrated  every  effort  into  that  one,  —  to  educate 
Joseph. 


26  A  RETURN. 

It  was  a  cool  evening  in  autumn.  The  hearth 
in  Mrs.  Brandon's  little  parlour  was  swept  with  the 
most  scrupulous  neatness.  A  bright  fire  glowed 
in  the  chimney.  By  it  sat  Fanny,  at  a  little  table 
covered  with  worsteds  and  patterns,  and  a  piece 
of  embroidery  in  her  hand.  She  was  now  thirteen, 
and  tall  of  her  age, — a  lovely  blue-eyed  girl,  with 
a  modest,  sweet  expression,  and  gentle,  graceful 
manners.  The  door  suddenly  opened  and  a  young 
man  entered.  He  was  whistling  a  lively  opera 
air,  but  stopped  at  the  sight  of  the  lovely  Fanny. 
She  had  never  before  seen  so  fashionably-dressed 
or  so  gay  a  gentleman  ;  startled  and  blushing,  she 
arose,  and  without  waiting  for  him  to  inquire, 
said,  u  My  mother  and  sister  have  gone  out  for  a 
short  walk ;  they  will  soon  return." 

Joe,  for  it  was  he,  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Who  would  thought  you  would  not 
.have  known  me,  and  that  I  should  not  have  known 
little  Tow-head  ?" 

"  Brother,  dear  brother,"  said  Fanny  springing 
into  his  arms. 

Joe  kissed  his  sweet  young  sister,  and  then,  re- 
leasing himself  from  her  arms,  said,  "  Where  's 
mother  and  Pug  ?  " 

"Joseph,  do  not  call  us  by  those  old,  ugly 


A  RETURN.  27 

names;  mother  and  Susan  will  soon  be  home. 
We  did  not  expect  you." 

"  No ;  of  course  you  did  not.  I  did  not  expect 
to  come  so  soon  myself.  The  old  rum  'un  must 
explain." 

"  And  who  is  he  ?  "  said  Fanny,  surprised 

"  Old  Plym,  alias  Dr.  Plympton,  the  master  of 
the  school." 

Mrs.  Brandon  and  Susan  now  returned,  and 
cordially  greeted  the  unexpected  visiter.  The 
mother  carefully  scrutinized  the  countenance  of 
her  only  hoy.  Alas  !  the  expression  was  not  im- 
proved. It  was  more  proud,  bold,  and  bad,  than 
ever.  Her  heart  sank  within  her,  but  she  made 
no  inquiries  that  night.  She  hastened  to  get  tea, 
and  called  Susan  to  her  assistance. 

"  I  must  put  the  tea-kettle  on  in  the  parlour  to- 
night," said  Mrs.  Brandon,  as  cheerfully  as  pos- 
sible. 

"  But  why  do  you  put  it  on  yourself  mother,' 
said  Joseph ;  "  where  are  your  servants  ?  " 

"  We  are  our  own  servants,  Joseph ;  it  is  long 
since  we  have  had  any  other,"  calmly  replied  his 
mother. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  em- 
ployed in  such  men'mi  offices.  I  shall  insist  that 
you  have  at  least  one  servant." 


28  A  RETURN. 

Mrs.  Brandon  sighed,  but  did  not  say  how,  for 
her  son's  sake,  she  had  thus  taken  up  employ- 
ments to  which  she  had  never  before  been  accus- 
tomed. 

Susan,  who  had  not  as  much  delicacy  as  her 
mother  and  sister,  said,  "  It  is  of  no  consequence 
whether  we  are  ladies  or  not,  so  long  as  you  are 
such  an  exquisite  gentleman." 

"  Well,  Pug,  you- are  just  the  same  as  you  used 
to  was  ;  your  nose  has  even  a  more  celestial  ten- 
dency than  ever,"  said  Joe,  with  a  mocking  laugh. 

"  Stay,  my  children,  do  not  reproach  each  other. 
It  is  time  for  our  evening  prayers." 

And  she  brought  out  the  great  family  Bible. 
Fanny  read  the  evening  lesson,  and  then  they  all 
knelt,  while  the  widow  prayed  fervently  to  the 
widow's  God  and  Judge. 


CHAPTER 


JOSEPH  AT  HOME. 

THE  next  morning  Mrs.  Brandon  received  a 

letter  from  Dr.  Plympton,  the  Principal  of 

Seminary.     Its  contents  were  far  from  pleasing. 

To  MRS.  BRANDON. 

My  dear  Madam: — I  regret  exceedingly  the 
circumstances  that  render  it  necessary  for  me  to 
say,  that  I  can  no  longer  consider  your  son  Joseph 
a  member  of  my  institution.  On  your  account  I 
have  borne  with  much  provocation  from  him,  but 
it  would  be  injustice  to  other  parents  to  retain 
among  their  sons  one  whose  example  is  so  cor- 
rupting. 

Joseph,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  idle,  extravagant, 
and  viciously  inclined.  He  has  borrowed  money 
from  every  boy  in  the  school.  He  has  even  art- 


30  JOSEPH  AT   HOME. 

fully  wheedled  out  of  the  smaller  boys  the  six- 
pences given  them  for  spending  money.  I  can 
not  say  that  he  is  absolutely  dishonest,  —  that  is, 
I  do  not  know  that  he  would  actually  steal,  —  but 
his  meanness  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  —  he  bor- 
rows without  expecting  to  pay.  Debts,  to  a  con- 
siderable amount,  he  nas  contracted  in  the  village, 
which  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  settle  as  soon  as 
possible.  For  my  own  payment  I  can  wait  your 
convenience. 

Joseph  will  doubtless  tell  you  that  he  has  done 
nothing  unworthy  of  a  gentleman,  for  I  under- 
stand that  is  his  chief  aim  ;  —  he  prides  himself 
upon  being  a  gentleman. 

I  must  advise  you,  madam,  not  to  send  your  son 
to  college.  I  understand  he  expected  to  enter 
the  Sophomore  Class.  It  would  be  useless  for 
him  to  make  the  attempt. 

With  great  respect,  dear  Madam,  yours,  &c. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  sorrow 
that  settled  deep  into  the  heart  of  that  widowed 
mother,  —  the  grief  and  mortification  of  those  lov- 
ing sisters. 

Mrs.  Brandon  was  unable  to  leave  her  room 
during  the  day.  Susan  and  Fanny  were  obliged 
to  attend  to  all  the  household  affairs. 


JOSEPH   AT    HOME.  31 

"  Pug,  it  is  a  shame  for  you  to  work  so  hard," 
said  Joe,  picking  his  teeth  after  a  late  breakfast, 
and  throwing  himself  back  in  his  chair  with  the 
air  of  a  prince ;  "  you  will  make  your  hands  as 
tough  as  leather." 

"  I  do  not  work  half  as  hard  as  our  dear  mother 
does,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Her  hands  are  old  and  tough  already,  it  wont 
vulgarize  her  as  it  will  you  and  Fanny.  Why 
does  she  not  have  help  ?  " 

"  Because  Mr.  Joseph  Brandon  must  be  liber- 
ally educated,"  replied  Susan  with  some  bitter- 
ness. "  She  has  toiled  day  and  night  for  you,  and 
what  is  her  reward  ?  She  will  be  obliged  to  sell 
this,  our  dear  home,  to  pay  your  debts,  —  cruel 
boy  that  you  are." 

"  Go  it,  Xantippe,"  said  Joe,  "  your  tongue  is  a 
glib  one  ;  mother  need  not  pay  the  few  hundreds 
that  I  owe,  I  will  pay  them  myself  one  of  these 
days.  By  the  way  Pug,  how  do  you  like  this 
cashmere  vest  ?  It  is  the  very  pattern  that  Dick- 
ens wore  in  this  country,  and  he  wore  it  because 
it  was  a  favorite  with  D'Orsay." 

'  And  who  is  he  ?  " 

"  You  never  heard  of  the  famous  Count  D'Or- 
say,  the  immortal  D'Orsay." 


32  JOSEPH   AT    HOME. 

"  Never.  Was  he  one  of  Napoleon's  gener- 
als ?  "  asked  Susan. 

"That  is  a  good  one!  No,  indeed!  ne  is 
Commander-in-chief  of  the  world  of  fashion* 
have  you  never  heard  of  the  D'Orsay  hat,  the 
D'Orsay  tie,  and  a  million  of  other  things  invent- 
ed by  him  ?  you  really  are  vulgariously  igno- 
rant." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  any  man  can  have  so  poor, 
so  mean  an  ambition,  as  to  wish  to  be  distinguish- 
ed in  this  way  ?  "  asked  Susan. 

"  It  is  a  glorious  distinction !  I  had  rather  be  a 
leader  in  the  empire  of  fashion  than  to  be  auto- 
crat of  the  Russias." 

"  Or  to  be  a  Howard,  or  a  Franklin,  a  Wilber- 
force,  or  a  Washington.  O  Joseph,  I  had 
hoped  that  if  you  were  not  a  distinguished  man 
you  would  at  least  have  become  a  respectable 
one,"  said  Susan  with  a  sigh. 

"  Nonsense  :  there  is  nothing  I  hate  like  a  re- 
spectable man ;  it  is  nothing  but  sleek,  clear  vul- 
garity." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  my  only  brother  such  a 
simpleton.  Do  you  expect  to  gain  your  living 
by  letting  yourself  out  in  place  of  a  wax-figure  at 
a  barber's  or  a  tailor's.  As  far  as  I  can  see,  it 


JOSFPH   AT   HOME.  33 

is  all  you  are  fit  for.  How  much  more  respect- 
able you  would  be  as  a  barber  or  a  tailor." 

"  Me  !  What,  cut  me  down  to  a  ninth  of  a  man ! 
You  are  actually  murderous." 

"  It  would  be  an  immense  elevation  for  you, 
Joe,  for  now  you  are  absolutely  good  for  nothing, 
not  the  ninety-ninth  part  of  a  man,  for, 

**  Worth  makes  the  man,  the  want  of  it  the  fellow." 

"  Pug,  I  am  shocked  at  your  want  of  refine- 
ment. That  line  and  its  fellow  have  been  the 
rounds  of  the  copy-books  these  forty  years.  It 
has  long  been  excluded  from  genteel  society." 

"  In  fact,  I  fear  it  has.  It  is  not  the  less  true 
for  all  that." 

"  I  do  n't  know  what  mother  thinks  of  herself 
to  let  two  great  girls  grow  up  in  entire  ignorance 
of  every  thing  that  is  genteel  and  fashionable.  I 
must  go  out  among  these  barbarians  in  your  petiy 
village,  and  astonish  the  natives." 

So  saying,  Joe  went  to  the  glass,  admired  his 
gay  vest,  put  his  hat  carefully  upon  his  head,  that 
he  might  not  disarrange  his  beautiful  hair.  His 
cane,  too,  he  took  that ;  and  then  he  looked  at  him 
self  again,  smoothed  down  the  brilliant  cashmere, 
drew  on  his  delicate  gloves,  admired  the  set  of 


34  JOSEPH   AT   HOME. 

his  coat,  —  it  was  a  perfect  fit,  —  and  he  did  look 
like  a  gentleman  in  his  own  estimation,  but  in  his 
heart  of  hearts  he  knew  that  he  was  a  mean  fel- 
low." 

"  Astonish  the  natives ! "  said  Sue,  as  her  hope- 
ful brother  closed  the  front  door.  "  Astonish  the 
natives !  yes,  indeed,  they  will  be  astonished  that 
Joe  Brandon,  after  all  the  money  his  poor  mother 
has  spent  upon  him,  has  come  back  just  such  a 
proud  simpleton  as  he  went  away." 


CHAPTER    VI. 


JL  SUDDEN  RESOLUTION. 

"  WHAT  are  you  going  to  do,  Joseph,  now  you 
have  been  compelled  to  give  up  the  idea  of  a 
college  education,"  inquired  Mrs.  Brandon,  after 
Joseph  had  been  home  some  weeks.  These  weeks 
he  had  employed  in  driving  about  the  country, 
lounging  at  the  tavern,  smoking,  wine-drinking, 
and  other,  like  gentlemanly  amusements,  —  keep- 
ing his  mother  and  sisters  in  a  state  of  constant 
anxiety  and  alarm. 

"  I  do  n't  know  yet  what  profession  I  shall 
follow,"  said  Joe ;  u  give  me  time  to  think,  will 
you.  I  am  sure,  you  and  the  girls  need  not 
grudge  me  the  little  I  eat  and  drink  under  youi 
roof." 

This  to  a  mother  who  had  been  so  self-sacrific- 
ing !  She  replied  with  a  mournful  voice,  — 


36  A   SUDDKN    RESOLUTION. 

"  I  have  done  ir justice  to  the  girls  already. 
We  are  so  much  reduced  by  your  extravagance 
that  we  shall  soon  be  compelled  to  labor  for  our 
own  support." 

"  Well,  it  is  no  more  than  I  shall  have  to  do 
myself,"  was  the  unfeeling  reply. 

Week  after  week  passed  away,  and  still  Joe 
was  lounging  about  home,  teasing  his  sisters  and 
adding  to  the  expenses  of  his  mother. 

Susan  posses^ -d  much  energy  of  character,  and 
a  freedom  in  speaking  the  plain  truth,  which  Joe 
did  not  relish  at  all.  If  there  was  any  thing  on 
earth  that  he  loved,  besides  his  own  dear  self,  it 
was  his  sister  Fanny.  She  was  so  gentle  and 
kind  that  she  never  spoke  harshly  or  severely  to 
any  one.  Yet  she  did  not  escape  from  the  per- 
secutions of  her  mischievous  brother.  She  often 
wept  under  the  inflictions  that  he  imposed  upon 
her,  and  pleaded  so  earnestly  to  escape  from  him 
that  any  one  with  the  least  generosity  would  have 
desisted.  Her  health  actually  suffered  in  conse- 
quence of  his  perpetual  annoyances. 

Mrs.  Brandon  at  length  insisted  that  Joe  should 
endeavour  to  find  some  employment  in  Boston. 
With  much  difficulty  she  provided  him  with 
money  to  bear  his  expenses  to  the  city,  and  to 


JOSEPH  AT   HOME.  37 

support  him  for  a  week  or  two  till  he  could  look 
for  some  employment. 

He  left  home  with  but  little  feeling,  although 
many  and  bitter  tears  were  shed  by  his  affection- 
ate family.  After  strutting  about  the  streets  of 
Boston  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  until  his  money 
was  spent,  he  wrote  the  following  brief  epistle  : 

DEAR  MOTHER  :  —  I  am  going  to  sea.  Give  my 
love  to  the  girls.  It  will  be  long  before  you  are 
troubled  again  by  your  son,  JOSEPH. 

Not  a  word  of  the  ship  in  which  he  was  to  em- 
bark !  No  mention  of  the  place  to  which  he  was 
going  !  Poor  Mrs.  Brandon  !  Susan  and  Fanny 
did  all  they  could  to  comfort  her,  although  they 
were  sad  enough  themselves. 

"I  am  sure  he  has  improved,  mother,"  said 
Fanny,  "  he  does  not  call  us  Pug  and  Tow  any 
more,  and  really  sends  his  love  to  us.  Who  knows 
but  this  is  the  very  best  thing  that  could  happen 
to  him." 

"  I  hope,  indeed,  that  it  may  be,"  said  the  dis- 
consolate mother. 


CHAPTER    V1T. 


THE  GENTLEMAN  SAILOR. 

THE  good  ship  Sally  Ann,  in  which  Joe  em. 
barked,  sailed  from  Boston,  bound  for  Smyrna 
on  the  15th  of  December.  He  went  out  before 
the  mast,  a  common  sailor. 

The  day  of  sailing  was  bright  and  pleasant  for 
a  winter's  day,  and  the  wind  was  fair.  But  in 
twenty-four  hours  the  wind  changed  and  blew  a 
gale  from  the  southeast. 

Joe  had  been  for  the  last  ten  hours  deadly  sea- 
sick. He  begged  they  would  throw  him  over- 
board, for  he  could  not  live  any  longer.  But 
when  the  storm  arose,  fear  and  excitement 
brought  him  upon  his  legs  again. 

4;  All  hands  upon  deck  !  "  was  the  cry.  The 
ship  had  carried  full  sail  while  she  was  "  going 
large,"  even  her  "  flying  kites,"  as  the  sky-sails 


THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR.  3^ 

are  called,  flaunted  jauntily  in  the  fair  breeze. 
The  sailors  were  ordered  to  take  in  the  sails. 
Much  confusion  ensued,  for  there  were  several 
raw  hands  on  board  beside  Joe  Brandon.  He 
was  sent  up  aloft,  but  so  terrified  was  he  that  he 
had  not  taken  three  steps  upward  before  he  came 
down  upon  the  deck,  flat  upon  his  back. 

The  crew  at  length  succeeded  in  taking  in  all 
the  sails ;  though  several  had  been  torn  and  the 
rigging  much  injured.  The  wind  continued  to 
blow,  and  the  snow  fell  thick  and  fast.  The  ship 
was  driven  back  upon  the  coast.  The  cold  was 
so  intense  that  the  hands  of  the  poor  sailors 
almost  froze  to  the  rigging. 

Joe,  after  his  fall,  had  skulked  away  to  his 
hammock,  and  there  continued  half  dead  with 
fear,  till  the  storm  was  over.  It  lasted  thirty-six 
hours.  The  seasickness  again  came  on,  and  in 
his  agony,  Joe,  tossing  from  side  to  side,  would 
exclaim,  "  My  mother,  O  my  poor  mother !  How 
would  she  feel  to  see  me  now !  " 

An  old  sailor  came,  after  the  storm  to  the  ham- 
mock, and,  taking  hold  of  Joe  with  a  rough  gripe, 
said,  "  Come,  land-lubber,  try  to  find  your  legs 
ihere  's  work  enough  on  deck." 

u  I  am  too  sick  to  work,"  said  Joe,  piteously. 


40  THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR. 

"  Can't  have  any  shamming  here  ;  —  you  have 
lain  there  long  enough  while  all  hands  were  hard 
at  it ;  —  come  along,  I  say ; "  and  Joe,  more  dead 
than  alive,  crawled  upon  deck. 

He  was  a  pitiful  looking  object.  His  long  hair 
was  matted  into  a  tangled  mass,  and  his  face,  pale 
as  ashes,  was  streaked  with  tar.  Some  of  his 
messmates  burst  into  a  real  horse-laugh  on  seeing 
him,  and  pointed  to  his  shirt  —  a  fine  linen  ruffled 
shirt !  Joe  was  very  sensitive  to  ridicule,  and,  as 
he  sank  upon  a  coil  of  ropes,  he  said,  "  It  was 
very  foolish  for  a  gentleman,  like  me,  to  come  to 
sea." 

"  A  green  hand  !  "  exclaimed  Tom  Simpson. 
"  We  '11  teach  him  how  to  behave  himself  like  a 
gentleman." 

From  this  time  all  manner  of  practical  jokes 
were  played  off  upon  poor  Joe.  They  greased 
the  deck,  when  it  was  his  watch,  to  make  him  fall. 
They  tarred  his  hammock,  till  his  hair  stuck  so 
fast  that  he  was  obliged  to  saw  himself  loose  from 
it  with  his  jack-knife.  In  short,  they  seemed  de- 
termined to  show  him  that  a  ship  was  no  place  for 
gentlemen 

.  They  had  now  been  out  a  fortnight.     Joe  was, 
at  last,  too  ill  and  weak  to  leave  his  hammock. 


THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR.  41 

The  only  sailor  who  showed  him  any  compassion 
was  a  boy,  two  years  younger  than  himself,  named 
Frank  Wood. 

"Come,"  said  Frank,  "cheer  up.  I  have 
brought  some  nice  gruel,  that  I  coaxed  the  cook 
to  let  me  make  for  you ;  I  know  it  will  do  you 
good." 

The  voice  of  kindness  was  soothing  and  sweet. 
Joe  gladly  took  the  gruel,  and  it  proved  very  ser- 
viceable. His  new  friend  was  a  favorite  with  all 
on  board. 

On  Sunday,  it  was  pleasant  to  see  the  young 
sailor  dressed  in  his  wide  trowsers,  clean  calico 
shirt,  and  bright  tarpaulin,  with  its  "  fathom  of 
black  ribbon."  No  boy  on  land  could  have 
looked  more  beautifully  neat.  This  was  his 
third  voyage.  It  was  a  perfect  wonder  to  Joe 
how  Frank  could  be  such  a  favorite  on  board ; 
even  the  rough,  weather-beaten  face  of  the  cap- 
tain relaxed  into  a  smile  as  Frank  politely  touched 
his  tarpaulin  in  passing  him. 

When  Joe  was  able  again  to  be  on  deck, 
Frank  endeavoured  to  aid  him,  in  every  possible 
way,  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  his  duty  as 
a  sailor. 

Ono  night,  as  they  were  together  upon  deck, 


42  THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR. 

vvhiling  away  their  watch  by  telling  yarns,  Joe 
asked  Frank  how  he  happened  to  be  a  sailor. 

"  It  is  not  much  of  a  story,"  replied  Frank 
Wood,  "  but  if  you  want  to  hear  it,  you  shall 
have  it." 

The  moon  shed  its  pure  and  tender  light  upon 
the  wide  waters ;  the  ship,  with  a  fair  light  breeze, 
was  gliding  onward,  and  in  the  calmness  cf  that 
still  and  lovely  night,  Frank  Wood  told  his  simple 
tale. 

"  My  father  is  a  physician  in  New  York,  and 
I  am  his  only  son.  My  poor  mother  died  some 
years  since,  when  I  was  twelve  years  old.  But 
I  shall  never  forget  her,  nor  her  instructions. 
She  was  beautiful  ;  and,  O,  so  good  !  I  really 
believe  she  was  too  good  for  this  earth,  and  so 
God  took  her  to  Heaven.  Do  you  know,  Joseph," 
continued  Frank,  lowering  his  voice  almost  to  a 
whisper,  "  that  I  sometimes  think  my  mother 
still  watches  over  me.  I  have  heard  there  were 
such  things  as  guardian  angels,  and  why  should 
not  rny  own  mother  be  mine  ?  When  those 
bright  stars  guide  our  path  over  the  sea,  I  look 
up  to  them  and  think  she  may  be  there.  Look 
at  Lyrn.  at  this  moment;  that  was  her  favorite, 
chosen  star.  I  never  look  at  it  without  thinking 
of  her." 


THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR.  43 

There  was  a  solemn  pause  of  some  moments, 
and  then  Frank  continued  :  —  "  My  father  is  en- 
gaged in  a  very  extensive  practice,  and,  after  my 
mother's  death,  I  was  sent  to  school.  Before 
that,  as  I  was  her  only  child,  she  had  educated 
me  at  home.  I  cannot  tell  you  about  her  death, 
it  is  too  sad;  nor  how  miserable  I  was  after- 
wards. 

"  At  school  I  was  very  unhappy.  I  had  never 
been  accustomed  to  mingle  with  all  sorts  of  boys, 
and  they  seemed  to  me  very  rude  and  unfeeling. 
Month  after  month  I  was  very,  very  homesick  ; 
yet  I  studied  hard,  for  my  father  is  ambitious,  and 
I  wished  to  please  him.  With  hard  study,  hard 
fare,  and  harder  usage,  at  length  I  grew  pale  and 
weakly.  I  did  not  complain  to  my  father,  but 
when  I  went  home,  at  the  end  of  two  years,  he 
was  astonished  to  find  me  looking  so  miserably. 
He  took  me  from  school,  and  I  remained  at  home 
for  a  half  year,  growing  worse  and  worse.  At 
length  my  father  said  I  must  try  going  to  sea  ;  and 
he  placed  me  under  the  care  of  a  good  captain, 
where  I  should  not  be  made  to  work  too  hard, 
and  where  I  would  be  sure  of  kind  treatment. 

"  I  had  tough  times,  that  first  voyage  ;  seasick, 
homesick,  and  disturbed  by  the  coarseness  of  my 
messmates ;  but  I  recovered  my  health. 


44  THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR. 

"  I  attempted  to  study  after  my  return  home 
and  again  grew  ill.  I  have  recovered,  by  going 
another  voyage,  and  this  is  my  third.  You  have 
suffered,  I  think,  still  more  than  I  did,  Joseph,  but 
I  hope  the  worst  is  over  now.  You  must  be  very 
civil  to  the  sailors,  for  they  have  got  a  notion  that 
you  are  proud  and  dandyish ;  and  they  like  to 
torment  you." 

"  Well,  I  always  meant  to  be  a  gentleman,  and 
it  is  plaguy  hard  that  I  can  be  nothing  but  a 
common  sailor,"  said  Joe. 

"  Why  cannot  you  be  both  ?"  inquired  Frank. 

"  Both !  that  would  be  impossible." 

*'  Certainly  not ;  my  dear  mother  always  told 
me  that  the  feelings  of  a  gentleman  might  often 
exist  where  the  manners  were  not  polished.  I 
have  found  several  sailors  who  had  right  noble, 
honorable  feelings,  who,  with  education  would 
have  been  as  perfect  gentlemen  as  my  own  father 
is.' 

"  Then  your  father  is  rich,"  said  Joe. 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  replied  Frank,  smiling. 
u  But  that,  you  know,  does  not  make  him  a  gen- 
tleman. In  the  sick-room  .of  his  poorest  patient 
he  is  just  as  polite  as  if  he  were  with  the  most 
distinguished  man  in  the  country.  He  gave  me 


THE   GENTLEMAN    SAILOR.  45 

Borne  rules  for  politeness,  that  I  keep  to  look  o\er 
now  and  then.  They  are  in  my  chest,  alongside 
of  the  Bible  that  my  mother  gave  me  ;  I  will 
read  them  to  you  some  time.  They  were  written 
for  a  boy  only  eleven  years  old,  and  of  course 
are  very  plain  and  simple." 

It  was  time  to  change  the  watch,  and  the  boys 
gladly  went  to  their  hammocks.  Frank  said,  as 
they  parted,  "  You  must  tell  me  your  story,  Jo- 
seph, the  next  time  we  have  an  opportunity.  1 
am  sure  I  shall  dream  of  my  mother  to-night." 

Though  weary  and  sleepy,  Joe  could  not  help 
thinking  how  little  he  had  prized  his  mother's 
advice,  and  how  unkind  he  had  been  to  his  sisters. 
He  dreamed  of  seeing  Fanny,  his  sweet  sister 
Fanny,  suffering  and  dying,  and  awoke  in  agony. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HOME. 

THE  first  time  that  Joseph  had  an  opportunity, 
hs  told  Frank  Wood  his  story ;  describing  his 
mother  and  sisters ;  and  when  he  spoke  of  Fanny, 
it  was  with  a  tear  in  each  eye. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  so  good  a  mother,  and 
such  sweet  sisters,"  said  Frank  Wood  ;  "  I  hope  I 
shall  one  day  be  acquainted  with  them." 

"I  do  n't  care  much  about  Sue,  but  Fanny 
was  always  so  kind,  so  very  kind.  I  am  afraid  I 
was  so  troublesome  to  her  that  she  thinks  that  I 
do  not  care  any  thing  about  her.  I  wish  I  could 
show  you  one  of  my  mother's  letters  ;  she  writes 
beautiful  letters,  but  I  did  not  pay  much  attention 
to  them  formerly.  You  have  promised  to  read 
me  those  rules  which  your  father  wrote  for  you. 
Though  I  suppose  rules  for  politeness  can  do  us 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   HOME.  47 

irery   little  good    now,   I    should    like    to  hear 
them." 

"  That  you  shall,"  said  Frank ;  and,  going  to 
his  chest,  he  brought  out  a  little  packet,  from 
which  he  took  a  neatly  folded  paper  and  read  the 
following :  — 

FOR  MY  DEAR  FRANK. 

You  will  hear  much  said,  my  boy,  about  polite- 
ness, —  the  politeness  of  a  true  gentleman ;  and 
you  will  wish,  I  hope,  to  be  polite.  In  order  to 
be  so,  you  must, 

1.  Be  quick  to  discover  what  your  place  is; 

2.  What  is  due  to  every  person  ; 

3.  How  you  can  render  every  one  their  due, 
most  agreeably  ; 

4.  How  you  can  make  yourself  most  accepta- 
able  in  person,  dress,  manners,  and  conversation. 

These  plain  rules  I  will  render  still  more  intel- 
ligible. You  would  not  think  it  right  to  place 
yourself  in  your  mother's  favorite  rocking-chair 
every  time  she  left  it  vacant ;  you  would  not  sit 
in  your  father's  seat  at  church ;  you  would  not 
take  his  place  at  the  dinner-table,  when  he  was 
expected  to  be  there.  As  you  become  oldei,  and 
go  out  among  other  persons,  pay  the  same  regard 


48  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    HOME. 

to  propriety.  Never  stand  or  sit  in  any  body's 
way,  so  that  they  will  tread  on  your  toes,  or  you 
will  tread  on  theirs.  This  rule,  however,  might 
perhaps  be  included  in  the  next.  Yield  to  every 
person  their  due.  This  is  exactly  the  golden 
rule ;  —  "Do  unto  others  what  you  would  that 
they  should  do  unto  you." 

A  nice  and  quick  perception  of  what  is  really 
due  to  others  can  alone  render  you  ever  ready 
to  manifest  politeness.  You  can  be  as  polite  to  a 
boot-black  as  to  the  president  of  the  United 
States.  That  is,  you  can  conduct  yourself  to- 
wards him  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  him  respect 
you,  and  feel  satisfied  that  you  do  not  despise 
him.  In  doing  this  you  need  not  put  on  a  con- 
descending manner ;  just  render  to  him  what  is 
really  his  due  as  a  man. 

On  the  other  hand,  is  the  man  one  of  high  sta- 
tion, no  cringing  civility  should  be  offered  to 
him.  Render  him  the  respect  and  attention  that 
he  has  a  right  to  demand,  and  maintain  your  own 
self-respect. 

In  order  to  render  strict  justice  to  every  one, 
we  must  be  as  careful  with  regard  to  their  feel- 
ings as  to  their  more  substantial  rights.  A  cer- 
tain delicacy  of  sentiment,  —  a  quick  sympathy 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   HOME.  48 

with  others,  will  enable  you  to  do  this ;  without 
it,  you  may  know  all  the  rules  of  external  polite- 
ness and  yet  never  be  a  gentleman. 

This  delicacy  of  sentiment  will  enable  you  to 
render  to  others  their  due,  agreeably  and  grace 
fully. 

A  boy  may  be  a  well-meaning  boy,  and  yet  be 
awkward  and  uncivil,  because  he  does  not  per- 
ceive what  others  expect  from  him,  and  what  they 
have  a  right  to  expect. 

You,  my  dear  Frank,  must  know  what  is  requir- 
ed from  you,  as  a  boy,  to  your  elders  and  superi- 
ors, to  your  equals  and  inferiors ;  and,  in  practis- 
ing it,  form  early  habits  of  politeness,  that  will 
become  so  habitual  that  you  can  be  easy  and 
graceful  in  your  intercourse  with  your  fellow- 
beings. 

A  more  refined  and  delicate  politeness  must 
be  yielded  from  our  sex  to  the  female  sex  than 
we  render  to  our  own.  They  are  weak,  and 
claim  our  protection.  They  are  subordinate,  arid 
therefore  it  would  be  mean  to  make  them  more 
sensible  of  it  than  is  needful.  All  these  things 
you  will  understand  in  time. 

How  can  you  make  yourself  most  acceptable 
in  your  person  ? 


50  RECOLLECTIONS   OF   HOME. 

You  never  heard  of  a  dirty  gentleman*  Frank ; 
it  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

Use  plenty  of  cold  water. 

Brush  your  teeth  two  or  three  times  a  day. 
You  will  want  them  for  an  ornament  to  your 
mouth,  as  well  as  a  convenience.  A  fine  set  of 
teeth  may  give  tenfold  value  to  the  pleasantest 
smile.  Think,  too,  how  much  suffering  you  may 
prevent  by  care  in  preserving  your  teeth.  There 
is  really  no  small  thing  that  so  marks  a  well-bred 
boy  as  this  scrupulous  care  of  the  teeth. 

Keep  your  hair  neatly  combed  and  brushed ; 
and  arranged  after  the  fashion,  without  following 
it  too  far.  That  is,  if  it  is  the  fashion  to  wear  it 
long,  do  not  wear  it  extravagantly  long  ;  if  short, 
do  not  have  it  shaven  close  to  your  head.  Fol- 
low fashion  moderately,  in  order  to  follow  it 
gracefully. 

"  Scarlet  finger,  and  long  jetty  nail,"  as  Pope 
says,  are  most  disgusting.  Be  careful,  then,  not 
to  ornament  the  ends  of  your  fingers  with  a  black 
crescent.  Do  not  put  your  fingers  in  your  nose, 
mouth,  or  ears  ;  or  pick  your  teeth  in  company. 

So  much  has  been  said  of  that  filthy  practice 
of  spitting,  that  I  cannot  think  you  will  ever  fall 
into  it.  Chewing  and  smoking  tobacco  render 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   HOME.  51 

spitting  indispensable.  I  entreat  you  to  a\oid 
both  of  those  unwholesome  and  disagreeable 
habits. 

I  wish  to  have  you  neat  and  tasteful  in  your 
dress,  without  extravagance.  Keep  your  clothes 
well  brushed,  and  hang  them  up  carefully  when 
they  are  taken  off. 

Never,  my  son,  never  rely  upon  dress  to  make 
you  a  gentleman.  It  is  as  flimsy  a  disguise  as 
the  lion's  skin  was  to  the  ass.  When  he  brayed, 
his  borrowed  attire  only  made  him  more  con- 
spicuously ridiculous. 

In  your  conversation  be  scrupulously  polite. 
Address  persons  by  their  proper  titles,  and  use 
those  expressions  of  civility  that  custom  renders 
necessary.  "  If  you  please,"  "  Thank  you," 
"  Beg  pardon,"  &c.,  &c.,  even  to  those  hi  the 
humblest  station. 

Speak  out  your  words  plainly  and  distinctly, 
and  in  a  moderate  tone  of  voice.  What  is  called 
a  good  enunciation  is  a  distinctive  mark  of  good 
breeding. 

I  cannot  think  it  possible  that  my  son  should 
ever  commit  such  a  sin  against  the  laws  of  God 
as  to  use  profane  language.  Infinitely  worse  is 
this  than  a  breach  of  politeness.  Yet  it  is  not 


52  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   HOME. 

only  a  violation  of  God's  law,  but  it  is  a  mean, 
vulgar  habit ;  so  low,  that  I  trust  you  will  never 
be  tempted  to  fall  into  it. 

How  horrible  is  the  sound  of  oaths  from  youth- 
ful lips.  My  heart  is  saddened  by  the  thought 
that  they  are  often  heard  in  our  streets,  from 
mere  children. 

•  Obscene  language  ;  low,  vulgar  conversation ; 
surely,  my  son,  you  can  never  dishonor  your 
father  and  mother  by  allowing  any  such  language 
to  pass  your  lips.  Never  listen  to  it  from  others. 

A  tattling,  gossipping,  tale-telling  disposition, 
avoid.  Every  honorable  mind  despises  traitors, 
spies,  and  tale-bearers. 

You  must  not  alone  be  just  to  others,  my  son , 
in  order  to  be  polite,  you  must  be  generous,  noble, 
chivalrous. 

Above  all,  to  be  a  Christian  gentleman,  the 
character  which  I  most  desire  for  you,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  study  faithfully  that  most  perfect  and 
beautiful  code  of  politeness,  given  by  St.  Paul,  in 
the  thirteenth  chapter  of  the  First  Epistle  to  tha 
Corinthians. 

In  short,  my  dear  son,  my  desires  and  prayers 
for  you  constantly  are,  that  you  may  be, — 

Pure  in  body  and  mind  ;  . 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF    HOME.  53 

Pure  in  manners  and  morals ;  and, 
Pure  in  heart. 

That  thus  you  may  perform  your  duties  faith* 
fully  and  acceptably  to  God  and  to  man. 

Frank  carefully  folded  the  precious  paper,  and 
said,  "  Well,  Joseph,  do  you  not  think  we  may 
be  polite,  even  if  we  are  sailors  ?  " 

"  Not  very  elegantly  so,"  replied  his  compan- 
ion. 

"Yet  I 'think   we    may  be    as  gentleman-like 
m  our  feelings  here  as  anywhere  else,"  said  Frank 
and  as  he  said  so  he  received  an  order  from  the 
captain  to  come  into  the  cabin. 


CHAPTER  IX 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES 

ON  entering  the  cabin,  Frank  was  surprised  al 
its  magnificence.  It  was  beautifully  finished 
with  mahogany  and  rosewood.  A  large  mirror 
adorned  one  end  of  it,  and  curtains  of  rich  crim- 
son damask  were  hung  there  in  graceful  festoons. 

But  Frank  was  still  more  surprised  at  its  in- 
mates.  A  delicate-looking  middle-aged  lady  was 
reclining  upon  a  couch,  and  by  her  side  sat  a  young 
girl,  of  about  fourteen,  with  dark  hair,  dark  eyes, 
and  a  complexion  pale  as  marble. 

The  captain  seemed  quite  amused  at  the  undis- 
guised astonishment  of  Frank,  as  he  stood,  tarpau- 
lin in  hand,  bowing  with  the  most  profound  respect 
to  the  ladies. 

"  You  did  not  know,  boy,  that  there  weie  pas- 
sengers on  board,"  said  the  captain. 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  55 

"  I  heard,  soon  after  we  sailed,  that  there  were 
cabin  passengers,  but  had  forgotten  it,  and  I  did 
not  know  that  they  were  ladies." 

"  They  are  ladies  in  every  thing  but  one  im- 
portant consideration,  —  that  is,  they  can't  speak 
English.  Madame  La  Tourette  and  her  daugh- 
ter  were  placed  under  my  care  by  a  French  mer- 
chant in  Boston,  to  be  landed  at  Marseilles.  I  do 
not  know  their  history.  The  poor  things  have 
been  very  seasick  and  lonely.  I  took  it  into  my 
head  that  you,  being  brought  up  a  gentleman  and 
a  scholar,  might  find  some  way  to  amuse  their. 
They  have  looked  through  the  cabin  door,  though 
they  have  not  been  on  deck,  and  have  asked  a 
great  many  questions  about  you." 

Frank  was  sorely  puzzled  to  know  what  he 
should  do  for  the  amusement  of  the  invalid  lady 
and  her  daughter,  who  were  looking  at  him  with 
much  curiosity  and  interest,  as  he  stood  there  in 
his  sailor's  dress. 

"  They  seemed  to  see  at  once  that  there  was 
something  peculiar  in  you,  and  I  have  tried  to 
make  them  understand  that  you  are  a  young  gen- 
tleman," continued  the  captain,  "  but  I  do  not 
know  whether  I  have  made  it  out  or  not :  you 
must  go  and  shake  hands  with  them." 


56  NEW   ACQUAINTANCES. 

Frank  was  ready  to  laugh  at  this  proposal ;  but 
the  captain  immediately  "  suited  the  action  to  the 
word  "  by  taking  Frank's  hand  and  placing  it  in 
one  of  the  lady's,  and  then  in  the  girl's  hand. 

They  smiled  at  this  peculiar  introduction,  and 
asked  Frank  if  he  spoke  French.  He  had  learn- 
ed to  speak  it  with  his  mother,  and  at  school ;  but 
felt,  at  first,  some  diffidence  about  replying  in  that 
language.  He  made  the  effort,  however,  and  it 
seemed  to  give  great  pleasure ;  tj^ey  immediately 
commenced  talking  with  so  much  volubility  that 
Frank  could  hardly  distinguish  a  word. 

The  captain  was  charmed.  He  slapped  Frank 
on  the  shoulders,  clapped  his  hands,  and  exclaim- 
ed, "  There,  I  told  them  there  was  a  young  gentle- 
man on  board  who  could  parley-vous  with  them. 
Poor  creatures,  they  are  so  lonesome  that  I  have 
determined  to  have  you  come  and  dine  with  them 
every  day ;  but,  as  the  sailors  might  not  think  it 
just  the  thing  if  you  at  the  same  time  messed 
with  them,  you  must  be  my  clerk,  and  we  will 
arrange  it  so  that  the  other  hands  can  manage 
without  you." 

"  But  I  have  no  suitable  clothes,"  said  Frank, 
"  I  have  nothing  but  a  sailor's  dress  of  the  most 
common  kind :  how  should  I  look,  sitting  down 
to  dine  with  ladies,  as  you  now  see  me  !  " 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  57 

"  But,  my  boy,  you  are  always  neat  and  clean 
I  have  wondered  a  thousand  times  how  you  kept 
yourself  so.     No  excuses.     I  dare  say  Madame, 
and  the  pretty  little  dem'selle,  won't  need  any. 
I  '11  tell  them  how  it  is." 

So  saying,  the  captain  pointed  at  Frank's  jack- 
et, wide  trowsers,  and  red  flannel  shirt,  and  shook 
his  head,  and  shouted,  "  Can't  help  it,  no  land 
gear";  as  if  the  ladies  were  deaf;  making,  at 
the  same  time,  divers  grimaces  and  shrugs,  to  aid 
himself  to  be  understood. 

"  There,  now,  they  understand  that  you  can't 
dress  up  smart  to  please  them,  and  won't  minct 
your  sea-rig." 

Frank  was  obliged  to  obey  the  captain's  ordery 
and  remove  his  quarters. 

The  vessel  was  to  touch  at  Marseilles  to  land 
the  passengers ;  and  from  this  time  to  their  ar- 
rival Frank  devoted  himself  to  the  ladies,  and  to 
the  captain,  as  his  clerk. 

Joseph  Brandon  was  not  at  all  pleased  at  the- 
change  which  had  taken  place  relative  to  Frank.. 
He  tried  to  make  the  other  sailors  complain  of 
it ;  but  they,  to  a  man,  rejoiced  in  it ;  saying 
that  it  was  not  suitable  that  such  a.  delicate  lad 
should  be  with  them  and  have  to  put  up  with 


58  NEW   ACQUAINTANCES. 

their  rough  ways.  They  felt,  always,  that  he  was 
a  gentleman,  although  he  refused  no  part  of  his 
sailor's  duty. 

Madame  La  Tourette  and  Louise  were  exceed- 
ingly amused  the  first  time  Frank  came  to  dine 
with  them.  His  blue  jacket  and  trowsers,  his 
calico  shirt,  and  morocco  pumps,  were  all  in  the 
neatest  order.  Yet  Madame  could  not  help  saying 
to  herself,  "  Quel  drole  de  petit  matelot !  "  "  What 
a  funny  little  sailor !  "  and  Louise,  in  spite  of  her 
good-breeding,  was  obliged  to  hold  her  handker- 
chief before  her  mouth,  to  conceal  a  smile. 

The  captain  thought  his  plan  had  succeeded 
marvellously,  for  in  a  few  days  his  passengers  ap- 
peared upon  deck. 

Joe  had  been  employed  in  splicing  and  tarring 
ropes  ;  and,  when  Frank  appeared  upon  deck  in 
attendance  upon  Madame  La  Tourette  and  Louise, 
the  poor  fellow  was  sadly  mortified  at  his  appear- 
ance. He  would  not  look  towards  Frank  to  give 
him  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  him,  but  turned 
away  with  a  sulky  expression. 

Frank  was  determined  that  he  should  not 
^escape  him ;  and,  going  up  to  him,  said,  kindly, 
**  Joseph,  do  not  think  that  new  friends  make  me 
forget  old  ones.  I  should  really  like  to  intro- 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  59 

duce  you  to  the  agreeable  acquaintances  which 
the  captain  has,  in  a  manner,  forced  me  to  make." 

"  A  pretty  fellow  should  I  be,"  replied  Joe, 
u  to  be  introduced  to  ladies ;  they  never  would 
think  it  possible  that  I  had  been  brought  up  gen- 
teelly. See,  they  are  looking  at  you  now,  and 
wondering  how  you  can  speak  to  such  a  dirty  fel- 
low as  I  am.  I  am  so  much  ashamed  to  be  seen 
working  and  looking  so,  that  I  am  just  ready  to 
jump  into  the  sea." 

"  That  would  be  a  sure  way  to  wash  away  the 
dirt,"  said  Frank.  "  But  Madame  calls  me." 

So  saying,  Frank  went  to  assist  the  lady  in 
going  below.  From  the  time  that  he  was  so  sin- 
gularly introduced,  Frank  exerted  himself  in  va- 
rious ways  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  the  voyage. 
They  came  in  sight  of  Gibraltar  on  the  twenty- 
eighth  day  out ;  and,  passing  through  the  Straits, 
made  for  Marseilles. 

The  Sally  Ann  was  to  remain  two  or  three 
days  at  Marseilles,  and  as  she  sailed  from  Boston 
in  the  winter,  and  there  had  been  no  sickness  on 
board,  she  would  not  be  obliged  to  perform  a 
long  quarantine. 

Madame  La  Tourette  was  so  grateful  to  her 
young  friend,  Frank,  that  she  invited  him  to  re- 


60  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES. 

main  at  her  house  during  his  stay  at  Marseilles. 
She  wished  to  show  him  every  thing  worth  seeing 
in  her  native  city. 

Louise  was  now  looking  in  better  health ;  the 
early  part  of  the  voyage  both  mother  and  daugh- 
ter had  suffered  exceedingly  from  seasickness. 
I  Louise  was  delighted  at  the  thought  of  reaching 
home,  —  her  dear  Marseilles, — from  which  she 
had  been  absent  for  two  years.  Madame  La 
Tourette  was  a  widow,  and  Louise  was  her  only 
daughter.  She  had  been  passing  a  couple  of 
years  with  a  brother  in  Canada,  and,  after  visit- 
ing the  United  States,  sailed  from  Boston,  as  has 
been  said,  in  the  Sally  Ann. 

The  captain  stood  on  the  deck  with  Madame 
leaning  on  his  arm  ;  Frank  held  a  spy-glass  for 
Louise.  "  Je  vois  ma  patrie,  ma  belle  France," 
exclaimed  the  young  girl.  "  Oui ;  c'est  vrai,  nous 
verrons  bientot,  votre  Marseilles,"  replied  Frank : 
and  then  he  asked  the  captain  how  long  it  would 
be  before  they  should  be  able  to  see  the  city. 

"  In  about  three  hours,"  was  his  reply. 

So  happy  were  they  all  at  this  news,  that  they 
decided  upon  remaining  upon  deck  till  sundown. 

And  it  was  a  glorious  sunset.  Far  in  the  west 
the  clouds  were  piled  in  rich  masses  of  purple 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  61 

and  gold,  while  lighter  flakes  floated  above,  daz- 
zlingly  white,  or  tinged  with  red.  The  sea  reflect- 
ed far  and  wide  the  brilliant  sky. 

"  There,  I  see  the  rocks,"  said  Madame  La 
Tourette  ;  "  I  know  those  rocks  well  ;  often  have 
I  climbed  them  in  my  youth  to  look  out  upon  the 
sea,  and  watch  the  distant  vessels." 

"  And  can  we  not  land  to-night  ?  "  inquired 
Louise,  eagerly. 

"  Not  to-night,  but  early  in  the  morning,"  re- 
plied  Frank. 

"  O,  I  shall  be  so  happy ! "  exclaimed  she ; 
ct  but  then  I  shall  soon  have  to  part  with  you  for 
ever,  Frank ;  and  that  makes  me  sad,  even  in  the 
midst  of  my  joy." 

"  My  good  friend,  Frank,"  said  Madame,  as 
they  were  about  to  separate  for  the  night,  "  I  owe 
you  a  thousand  thanks  :  is  there  any  thing  I  can  do 
for  you  before  we  leave.  Of  course  you  are  our 
risiter  while  you  stay  at  Marseilles." 

"You  owe  me  no  thanks,"  said  Frank,  "and 
yet  I  have  one  favor  to  ask ;  —  it  is  that  you  will 
include  a  friend  of  mine  in  your  kind  invitation. 
Joseph  Brandon  has  never  been  to  sea  before; 
he  has  suffered  much  during  the  voyage,  and  I 
think  it  would  do  him  good  to  be  with  me  " 


62  NEW   ACQUAINTANCES. 

"  I  should  be  most  happy  to  have  him  accompa 
ny  us,"  said  Madame,  with  great  politeness. 

"  And  will  you  ask  the  captain  to  give  him 
leave  of  absence  ?  "  said  Frank. 

"  As  well  as  I  can,"  replied  Madame  ;  and,  turn- 
ing to  the  captain,  she  said,  "  Capitaine,  vill  you 
let  von  friend  of  Meester  Frank  go  chez  moi  — 
to  mine  house  dat  is  —  vid  him  ?  " 

"  Who  is  it,  Frank  ?  "  asked  the  captain. 

"  Joseph  Brandon,  Sir.  I  should  like  to  have 
him  go  ashore  with  me  and  remain  the  two  days 
that  we  are  at  Marseilles.  Madame  La  Tourette 
is  so  kind  as  to  invite  him  to  her  house." 

44  He  is  a  lazy  dog,  that  Joe  Brandon ;  he  is  n^t 
fit  to  be  a  sailor,  and  I  do  not  think  he  deserves 
the  favor  you  ask  for  him  ;  but  since  you  ask  it, 
Frank,  1  grant  it.7) 

"  Tfyink  you,  Sir  ;  I  hope  he  will  do  better  011 
the  voyage  home  ;  he  was  entirely  green,  you 
know,  and  has  gone  through  a  pretty  good  salt- 
ing." 


CHAPTER   X. 


BEAU  BRANDON  ASHORE. 

GREAT  preparations  were  going  on  before  a 
small  looking-glass,  on  board  the  Sally  Ann,  the 
next  morning. 

Joe  was  delighted  with  the  invitation  of  Mad- 
ame La  Tourette,  and  attributed  it  entirely  to  the 
impression  he  had  made  by  his  gentleman-like 
appearance,  which,  by  the  way,  she  had  neve*1 
observed. 

The  self  same  splendid  Dickens,  D'Orsay  cash- 
mere vest  was  once  more  the  object  of  his  admi- 
ration, as  he  surveyed  himself  with  much  com- 
placency in  the  aforesaid  bit  .of  a  looking-glass. 
But,  like  Sampson,  he  was  shorn  of  his  glory, — 
his  long  hair.  The  unfortunate  tarring  into  the 
hammock  had  robbed  him  of  his  locks,  arid  left 
him  looking  as  if  it  had  been  gnawed  off  by  the 
rats. 


64          BEAU  BRAKDON  ASHORE. 

Joe  was  a  tall,  thin,  awkward  boy,  with  long 
arms  and  large  hands.  His  dress-coat  was  quite 
too  short-waisted  for  him,  the  buttons  seemed 
travelling  up  to  the  shoulders,  and  those  large 
hands  hung  out  of  the  sleeves  at  a  goodly  dis- 
tance from  the  cuffs.  But  the  ruffled  shirt,  the 
splendid  vest,  the  gold  chain,  and  large  breast- 
pin,— they  would  atone  for  other  deficiencies;  at 
least  so  thought  Joe. 

When  he  appeared  upon  deck,  the  sailors  gave 
three  cheers,  —  "  Hurrah  for  Beau  Brandon." 

Frank  appeared  in  his  Sunday  sailor  dress. 
Soon  Madame  and  Louise  were  ready  ;  and  were 
handed  ashore,  and  into  the  carriage,  by  Joe  and 
Frank. 

The  friends  of  Madame  hastened  to  greet  her 
on  her  return,  and  were  not  a  little  surprised  to 
see  her  young  companions. 

A  dinner-party  was  invited  the  next  day  to 
meet  them. 

The  habitual  politeness  of  Frenchmen  could 
hardly  keep  them  from  laughing  at  seeing  Frank 
Wood,  dressed  like  a  common  sailor,  walking 
up  and  down  the  splendid  drawing-room,  with 
Louise  La  Tourette.  But  so  completely  was  he 
at  his  ease,  and  so  graceful  and  polite  withal 


BEAU   BRANDON    ASHORE. 

that  they  soon  changed  their  tone  and  admired 
ihe  fine  young  American. 

Poor  Joe  could  not  speak  a  word  of  French 
He  sat  in  a  corner,  not  knowing  where  to  put  his 
feet  or  his  hands,  where  to  look,  or  what  to  do. 
There  could  hardly  have  been  a  better  specimen 
of  a  raw  Yankee,  and  so  thought  Johnny  Cra- 
peau.* 

Poor  Madame  La  Tourette  did  not  know  what 
to  do  with  him.  She  was  glad  when  dinner  was 
announced,  and  she  asked  him  to  sit  by  her  at 
table.  There  his  awkwardness  and  vulgarity 
were  still  more  apparent.  He  carried  all  his 
food  to  his  mouth  with  his  knife ;  he  stuck  out 
his  elbows  like  a  grasshopper ;  used  his  pocket- 
handkerchief  instead  of  a  napkin,  and  ate  so  fast 
as  to  alarm  his  lady  hostess  lest  he  should  actu- 
ally choke  himself. 

Frank,  if  he  had  had  time  to  observe  Joe, 
would  have  been  much  mortified,  but  fortunately 
he  was  engaged  hi  conversation  with  a  distin- 
guisned  gentleman  who  was  making  inquiries 
about  the  United  States.  In  a  prompt  and  clear 
manner  he  gave  the  information  that  was  desired 
and  surprised  the  gentleman  as  much  by  his 

*  The  English  nickname  for  a  Frenchman. 


66          BEAU  BRANDON  ASHORE. 

intelligence  as  he  did  the  ladies  by  his  easy  po- 
liteness. 

Madame  La  Tourette  and  Louise  were  very 
happy  to  see  their  young  friend  the  object  of  such 
general  attention  and  admiration.  Beau  Brandon 
was  stung  with  jealousy  and  envy. 

What  could  there  be  hi  that  sailor-boy  so  at- 
tractive ? 

He  was  a  gentleman-like,  well-bred  boy  ;  and 
if  a  gentleman  at  home,  of  course  he  was  so 
everywhere. 

There  are  different  customs  and  various  usages 
imong  different  nations  ;  quickness  of  perception 
will  enable  a  well-bred  person  to  adopt  at  once 
those  customs  which  are  new  to  him,  without 
awkwardness.  He  would  use  his  fingers  with 
the  Turks,  chop-sticks  with  the  Chinese,  and  sil 
ver  forks  with  the  French,  with  equal  grace  and 
propriety.  He  would  know  his  place  everywhere, 
and  maintain  his  self-respect. 

Thus  it  was  with  Frank  Wood,  though  only 
a  boy  of  sixteen,  among  entire  strangers,  in  a 
foreign  land  ;  and,  though  in  the  dress  of  a  com- 
mon sailor,  it  was  impossible  not  to  perceive  that 
he  had  the  manners  and  the  sentiments  of  a  gen- 
tleman, and  was  therefore  a  fit  associate  for  the 
refined  and  the  noble  of  every  land. 


BEAU    BRANDON    ASHORE.  6"7 

Having  no  hereditary  titles  in  the  United 
States,  there  can  be  no  higher  distinction  than 
that  which  belongs  to  moral  worth,  intellectual 
superiority,  and  refined  politeness.  A  repub- 
lican gentleman,  therefore,  need  acknowledge  no 
superior ;  he  is  a  companion  for  nobles  and 
kings,  or,  what  is  better,  for  the  polite,  the  tal- 
ented, the  good. 

Since  such  are  an  American's  only  claims  to 
distinction,  it  becomes  the  more  important  for  him 
to  cultivate  all  those  graces  which  elevate  and 
dignify  humanity.  No  high  ancestral  claims  can 
he  urge  for  his  position  in  society.  Wealth  he 
may  possess,  and  there  are  those  who  will  ac- 
knowledge that  claim  ;  but  if  the  possessor  have 
not  intelligence  and  taste  to  teach  him  how  to 
use  his  wealth,  it  will  only  make  him  a  more  con- 
spicuous mark  for  ridicule.  Those  glorious  in- 
stitutions of  New  England,  common  schools,  af- 
ford to  every  boy  the  opportunity  to  acquire  that 
intelligence  arid  taste,  and  his  associates  there  are 
from  every  class  of  society.  There  is  no  insur- 
mountable obstacle  in  any  boy's  way  ;  his  posit  .'on 
in  society  must  depend  mainly  upon  himself. 


CHAPTER   XL 


THE  PARTING. 

MADAME  LA  TOURETTE  took  great  pleasure  in 
showing  the  young  sailors  every  thing  worthy  of 
notice  in  the  Old  Town  and  the  New  Town,  into 
which  Marseilles  is  divided. 

Her  own  elegant  mansion  was  in  the  beautiful 
street,  Beauvau.  From  this  they  sallied  forth  to 
see  the  Exchange,  the  fine  old  Cathedral,  —  one 
of  the  most  ancient  in  France,  —  the  hospitals,  and 
the  Museum.  In  all  these  objects,  Frank  Wood 
took  an  intelligent  interest,  and  was  highly  pleased 
to  be  able  to  communicate  so  much  to  his  father 
that  would  be  interesting  to  him.  At  the  hospi- 
tals, in  particular,  he  rruidc  so  many  judicious, 
well-directed  inquiries,  as  to  astonish  the  physi- 
cian in  attendance,  and  give  great  pleasure  to 
Madame  La  Tourette.  She  was  much  amused 


THE   PARTING.  69 

when  the  physician  said  to  her,  aside,  "  A  very 
remarkable  sailor-boy,  Madame ;  by  his  accent  he 
must  be  English  ;  I  never  saw  any  one  of  that 
class  so  intelligent  and  so  polite."  ¥ 

"  He  is  an  American,"  was  the  reply. 

The  result  of  his  observations  Frank  was  able 
to  communicate  in  a  letter  to  his  father,  which  he 
sent  by  a  vessel  just  ready  to  sail  for  New  York. 

Joseph  Brandon  wrote  to  his  mother  at  the 
same  time,  and  expatiated  largely  upon  the  flat- 
tering reception  he  had  met  with  in  France.  He 
failed  not  to  describe  the  table  equipage  and  the 
dress  of  the  ladies  at  the  dinner  party ;  his  own 
dress,  too,  was  very  particularly  mentioned. 
Nothing,  however,  worthy  of  a  traveller's  notice 
was  described.  Yet  his  mother's  heart  would  be 
gladdened,  and  his  sisters  would  rejoice ;  for  he 
assured  them  that  he  was  sorry  that  he  had  been 
only  a  burden  to  them,  and  concluded  with  a  hope 
that  he  might  henceforth  be  to  them  a  better  son 
and  brother. 

Madame  La  Tourette  bade  adieu  to  her  young 
friend,  Frank,  with  sincere  regret,  begging  him 
to  visit  them  again.  This  he  earnestly  hoped  he 
should  be  able  to  do. 


70  THE   PARTING. 

Louise,  with  the  consent  of  her  mother,  gave 
him  a  ring,  within  which  was  engraved,  "  Pensez 
a  moi." 

Joseph  was  about  taking  leave  without  thanking 
Madame  for  her  politeness,  when  Frank  gave 
him  a  hint  to  do  so. 

Joe  said  she  would  not  understand  him ;  but. 
Frank  waited  for  him,  and  at  length  he  said,  "  1 
tank  you  berry  much  for  de  politeness  you  hab 
show  me,"  thinking  he  should  be  better  under 
stood  in  broken  English. 

Frank  could  scarcely  refrain  from  laughing 
outright,  while  Madame  and  Louise  bowed  with 
the  greatest  civility,  although  their  countenances 
expressed  very  perceptibly  that  they  were  ex- 
ceedingly amused. 

When  they  had  gone,  Madame  said,  "  Frank 
Wood  is  a  very  polite,  fine  boy,  and  will  make 
people  think  well  of  Americans  wherever  he 
goes." 

"Yes,  mamma,  he  will,  if  he  does  not  take 
that  great  awkward  boy  with*  him  to  destroy  the 
good  opinion." 

"  Let  us  ever,  my  child,  cherish  the  memory 
of  the  good  and  the  agreeable  that  we  discover, 


THE    PARTING.  7l 

and  obliterate   the   bad   and   the   disagreeable," 
said  Madame. 

Louise  was  in  no  danger,  in  this  instance,  of 
not  following  her  mother's  wise  injunction. 


CHAPTEK    XII. 


A  STORM  AT  SEA. 

THE  vessel  had  a  speedy  voyage  up  the  Med 
terranean  to  Smyrna,  and,  having  taken  in  hei 
lading,  sailed  for  Boston. 

The  voyage  continued  prosperous  for  several 
days  ;  after  they  had  left  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar, 
head  winds  prevailed,  and  then  a  dead  calm. 
Several  of  the  sailors  were  seized  with  a  malig- 
nant fever.  The  captain,  too,  was  ill.  The 
labor  of  working  the  ship,  as  well  as  the  care 
of  the  sick,  came  upon  a  few. 

Frank,  who  had,  till  this  time,  continued  to 
act  as  captain's  clerk,  now  cheerfully  returned 
to  the  duties  of  a  common  sailor. 

Brandon's  visit  at  Marseilles  for  a  time  ren- 
dered him  quite  proud  and  pretending  but  there 
was  no  use  in  it  no  good  was  gained,  and  Frank 


A    STORM   AT   SEA.  73 

advised  him  never  again  to  boast,  among  his 
messmates,  of  "that  famous  French  dinner- 
party." 

From  a  notion  that  ardent  spirits  would  keep 
off  infection,  Brandon  took  large  quantities  of 
rum.  Frank  warned  him  seriously  of  the  dan- 
ger he  incurred  of  becoming  intemperate. 

"I  thought  you  had  too  much  taste  to  be  a 
tee-totaller,"  said  Joe. 

"  You  did  not  think  I  had  a  taste  for  rum  ?  M 
replied  Frank. 

"  No ;  but  I  thought,  with  all  your  ideas  of 
refinement,  that  you  would  drink  wine  like  a  gen- 
tleman. I  was  surprised  to  see  you  refuse  Cham« 
pagne  and  Burgundy  at  that  famous  French 
dinner-party." 

"  I  promised  my  father,  before  I  left  home 
the  first  time,  that  I  would  not  drink  wine  nor 
ardent  spirits,  and  I  have  not  broken  my  prom- 
ise." 

"  Well,  I  can  tell  you  that  those  stylish 
French  people  looked  at  you  as  if  they  thought 
you  were  terrible  green  not  to  take  wine  ;  I  dare 
say  they  thought  you  never  saw  any  thing  of  the 
kind  before." 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,  I  told  them  that  1 


74  A    STORM    AT    SEA. 

never  drank  wine,  and  they,  with  true  politeness 
did  not  urge  it  upon  me." 

In  spite  of  his  precautionary  measures,  Bran- 
don was  seized  violently  with  the  fever.  Two  of 
the  sailors  had  already  died,  and  were  buried  in 
the  depths  of  the  ocean.  Poor  Joe  was  terribly 
alarmed. 

"  Frank,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  think  I  shall  get 
over  this,  for  every  body  is  so  selfish  that  I  can 
now  hardly  get  a  cup  of  cold  water  brought  to 
me.  O,  if  I  only  had  my  mother  to  take  care 
of  me." 

"  The  sailors  have  all  so  much  to  do,  poor 
fellows  !  "  replied  Frank,  kindly,  "  that  they  can- 
not devote  as  much  time  as  they  would  wish  to 
the  sick.  I  will  do  all  that  I  can  for  you,  and  I 
am  glad  that  I  went  to  the  hospitals  at  Marseilles, 
for  I  there  learnt  many  things  which  may  be  of 
use  to  us  now.  I  shall  sponge  you  as  often  as  I 
can  with  cold  water,  and  use  some  other  reme- 
dees  of  which '  I  there  heard.  Keep  up  good 
courage,  Joseph,  and  I  think  you  will  do  well. 
There  is  one  thing  I  want  you  to  promise  me ; 
that  is,  when  you  recover,  that  you  will  drink  no 
more  ardent  spirits." 

"  Never,  in  all  my  life  ?  "  inquired  Joe. 


A   STORM   AT    SEA.  75 

i 

"  .N  jver.  The  men  on  board  who  drank  most 
freely  are  the  ones  who  have  died,  and  not  a 
temperate  sailor  has  yet  had  the  fever." 

"  Ah,  I  think  I  shall  never  wish  to  take 
another  drop,  and  I  solemnly  promise  you  that 
I  will  not,  unless  it  is  prescribed  by  a  physician 
for  a  medicine.  Give  me  water,  water,  now,  for 
I  am  mad  with  thirst." 

After  giving  him  the  water,  Frank  was  sum- 
moned upon  deck,  and  was  unable  to  return  for 
several  hours ;  when  he  did  so  he  found  Brandon 
raving  with  the  delirium  of  fever.  He  called 
upon  his  mother  in  the  most  piteous  accents, 
begging  her  not  to  forsake  him. 

Frank  tried  to  soothe  him,  used  the  cold 
water  frequently,  and  gave  him  such  medicines 
as  the  ship's  medicine-chest  afforded.  Although 
exhausted  by  fatigue,  he  sat  by  him  for  several 
hours. 

The  Bible,  the  gift  of  his  mother,  he  read  with 
deep  interest.  He  knew  not  how  soon  his  own 
turn  might  come  to  be  laid  low,  and  he  prayed 
earnestly  for  himself  and  his  companion. 

Towards  morning  Joseph  slept,  and  Frank 
snatched  a  short  nap.  He  was  aroused  from  it 
to  relieve  the  watch  upon  deck. 


76  A   STORM   AT    SEA. 

So  sleepy  that  he  could  hardly  stand,  he  stag- 
gered upon  deck,  and  there  met  the  captain,  who 
was  just  able  to  come  out  of  the  cabin. 

Seeing  Frank  thus  staggering  along,  with  his 
face  flashed  and  his  eyes  red  and  swollen,  he 
laid  his  hand  roughly  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
said,  "  What !  drunk  at  this  time  of  the  morning^ 
ooy  !  —  you  must  have  the  cat  for  this." 

"  Sir,  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Frank,  with 
great  mildness  and  self-possession,  "  I  am  very 
weary  and  sleepy  from  having  taken  care  of  poor 
Brandon  all  night.  I  was  afraid  that  he  might 
not  live  till  morning.  I  never  take  spirits,  Sir." 

"  Excuse  me,  my  good  fellow ;  I  see  I  was 
entirely  mistaken,"  said  the  captain.  "  How 
much  you  gain  by  never  getting  into  a  passion. 
There  is  nothing  convinces  one  so  soon  as  this 
mild  way  of  speaking.  It  makes  me  think  of  my 
good  old  mother.  I  wish  I  was  more  like  the 
old  lady.  How  sorry  she  would  have  been  to 
hear  me  rip  out  an  oath  as  I  do  now  and  then. 
Odd  zooks,  there  is  a  storm  brewing.  There, 
look  over  the  water,  —  there  comes  a  real  hurri- 
cane, —  down  with  the  sails  !  " 

The  few  sailors  on  deck  flew  into  the  rigging, 
but  before  they  could  succeed  in  taking  in  the 


A   STORM   AT    SEA.  77 

sails,  the  gale  came  rushing  on  so  furiously  that 
the  vessel  reeled,  and  seemed  fighting  for  exist- 
ence, "  like  a  thing  of  life." 

Another  blast,  still  more  furious; — she  was 
thrown  completely  upon  one  side,  and  the  tatter- 
sd  sails  floated  upon  the  water. 

Two  men  went  overboard  and  were  lost ;  the 

.ei/iainder  clung  to  the  sides,  spars,  and  rigging. 

Jitters  were  given  to  cut  away  the  masts.     In 

,onoequence  of  the  small  number  of  the  crew  re- 

'mining,  this  was  a  task  of  great  difficulty  ;  it  was, 

x>wever,  accomplished,  and   the   vessel   righted. 

Che  storm  raged  fiercely  for  several  hours ;  the 

training  that  the  ship  had  undergone  loosened  the 

timbers,  so  that  there  was  water  in  th«  hold,  and 

the  pumps  were  occasionally  used. 

As  soon  as  Frank  could  make  his  way  to  the 
place  where  he  had  left  Joseph,  he  went  to  see 
what  had  become  of  him.  To  Frank's  utter 
astonishment,  there  he  still  lay  in  his  hammock. 

Whether  he  had  clung  to  it  the  whole  time  or 
not  could  rot  be  ascertained ;  there  he  was, 
deathly  pale,  cu:d  &o  weak  as  to  be  unable  to 
move. 

"  Fraak,v  gfc'd  fce>  *n  a  feeble  voice, "  Is  it  you  ? 
I  believe  I  am  *Vu&  I  ani  not  fit  to  die.  Wha 


78  A    STORM   AT    SEA. 

a  bad  son  and  brother  I  have  been.     What  shal 
I  do  ?  " 

"Ask  God's  forgiveness,"  said  Frank,  deeply 
moved. 

"  I  have,"  was  the  reply. 

After  a  few  moments'  pause,  Joseph  inquired, 
*  How  near  home  are  we,  Frank  ?  " 

"  We  are  quite  distant ;  you  know  we  had  not 
made  very  rapid  progress  after  we  left  Gibraltar, 
when  we  carried  away  our  masts " 

"  Carried  away  our  masts !  "  interrupted  Jo- 
seph. "When?  how?" 

Frank  commenced  telling  the  sad  tale,  but  svi 
extreme  was  the  weakness  of  Joseph  that  he  fe 
asleep  during  the  recital. 

He  awoke  after  some  hours,  refreshed  and  evi- 
dently better;  the  crisis  was  past,  and  recovery 
probable.  Great  was  his  astonishment  on  learning 
the  full  extent  of  the  catastrophe  ;  and  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  convince  him  that  the  ship  was  not  even 
then  in  immediate  danger  of  being  engulfed  in 
the  ocean. 

The  danger,  though  not  immediate,  was  immi- 
nent. There  was  the  ship  that  came  so  gallantly 
out  nf  port,  every  sail  proudly  swelling  to  the 
breeze,  bearing  high  aloft  the  stars  and  stripes 


A   ST3RM   AT   SEA.  79 

BO  dear  to  every  American,  —  there  she  lay, — 
maimed,  deformed,  floating  at  the  mercy  of  every 
wave  ;  her  hardy  crew  lessened  by  death  ;  the  re- 
mainder sick,  disheartened,  almost  in  despair  • 
their  only  hope  that  some  vessel  might  heave  in 
sight  and  take  them  from  the  wreck. 

In  consequence  of  the  small  number  of  service- 
able hands  on  board,  it  was  some  time  before  they 
succeeded  in  raising  a  jury-mast ;  when  this  was 
accomplished,  they  spread  their  sails  and  steered 
for  Fayal,  one  of  the  Azore  Islands. 

Brandon  was  now  rapidly  recovering.  He  had 
no  friend  but  Frank ;  no  one  else  troubled  them- 
selves about  him,  or  rendered  him  the  slightest 
attention.  Gratitude,  like  one  fresh  flower  in  a 
desert,  sprung  up  in  the  heart  of  Joseph  Brandon ; 
and  its  kindred  flower,  affection,  must  soon  bloom 
in  its  neighbourhood.  The  selfishness  of  his  na- 
ture had  yielded,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
more  influenced  by  his  young  friend  that  he  ever 
before  had  been  by  any  human  being. 

Moreover,  that  Almighty  Being  whose  wonders 
are  upon  the  great  deep,  was  now  often  present  to 
his  thoughts  ;  for  in  his  agony,  with  death  staring 
him  in  the  face,  he  had  prayed. 

During  the  long  and  tedious  hours  of  lone& 


$0  A   STORM   AT    SEA. 

ness  that  he  now  suffered,  there  was  abundan 
time  lor  reflection.  His  life  passed  before  him 
like  a  moving  panorama.  What  had  he  eveT 
done  for  the  happiness  of  others  ?  Nothing. 
How  had  he  sought  his  own  ?  By  trying  to  ap- 
pear what  he  was  not.  He  wished  to  appear  rich, 
—  he  was  not  so.  He  wished  to  appear  brave, — 
at  heart  he  was  a  coward.  He  wished  to  be  con- 
sidered polite  and  refined,  —  he  was  rude  and 
coarse.  In  striving  after  appearances  he  had  to- 
tally neglected  reality. 

His  mother,  his  excellent,  loving  mother,  —  she 
was  no  sv  revealed  to  him  in  her  true  character. 
The  largo  tears  rolled  over  his  pale,  thin  face,  as 
he  thought  of  her  neglected  counsels,  and  all  the 
trouble  he  had  occasioned  her. 

Fanny,  sweet  Fanny,  seemed  to  hover  near 
him  like  some  mild  spirit  of  love  and  tenderness. 
Susan,  too,  in  spite  of  her  candor  and  plain- 
dealing  severity,  was  a  generous  sister.  How 
could  he  ever  repay  them  all  for  their  self-sacri- 
ficing kindness?  He  thought,  again  and  again, 
of  that  last  fortnight  in  Boston,  when,  instead  of 
earnestly  looking  for  some  respectable  employ- 
ment, he  had  strutted  about  the  streets  as  if  he 
.jyere  as  rich  as  Croesus,  until  his  time  and  money 


r  A   STORM   AT   SEA.  81 

were  spent,  and  he  was  forced,  as  a  last  resort^  to 
go  to  sea. 

That  home,  which  he  had  once  despised,  —  what 
spot  on  earth  now  seemed  so  lovely !  "  Home, 
sweet  home."  When  the  sullen  waves  dashed  at 
midnight  against  the  shattered  vessel,  O,  what  ag- 
ony thrilled  through  his  soul  as  those  words 
seemed  to  vibrate  there, — 

u  Efane  '  aweet  home !    There  's  no  place  like  home  !  " 


CHAPTER    Xili. 


A  SAIL. 

ON  the  fourth  morning  after  the  ship  had  car- 
ried away  her  masts,  the  joyful  sound  was  heard, 
—  "A  sail!  a  sail!" 

Suddenly  a  fresh  breeze  came  over  the  water ; 
the  vessels  neared  and  neared,  and  the  crew  of 
the  dismasted  ship  became  almost  frantic  with 

joy- 
it  was  soon  changed  to  the  deepest  dejection ; 

for  the  vessel  bore  off  in  an  easterly  direction, 
and  either  saw  not  their  forlorn  condition,  or 
chose  to  take  no  notice  of  their  signals  of  dis- 
tress. 

To  increase  their  anxiety,  the  leak  was  gain- 
ing fast  upon  them,  and  the  labor  at  the  pumps 
was  incessant.  Captain  Wye,  who  had  just  re- 
covered from  sickness,  which  had  been  succeed 


ed  by  great  debility,  seemed  entirely  bewildered 
and  knew  not  what  directions  to  give  for  the  safe- 
ty and  preservation  of  the  crew. 

Some  of  the  sailors,  in  a  state  of  extreme  des- 
peration, drank  freely  of  ardent  spirits,  and  be- 
came mutinous  and  disobedient. 

It  was  necessary  that  all  should  work,  by 
turns,  at  the  pumps.  Towards  the  morning  of 
the  fifth  day,  while  the  captain,  Joseph  Brandon, 
Frank  Wood,  and  two  common  sailors,  were 
sleeping  soundly,  during  the  brief  space  allowed 
them  for  rest,  the  first  mate,  with  the  remain- 
der of  the  crew,  had  taken  the  long-boat  and  es- 
caped. 

One  of  the  sailors,  accustomed  to  wake,  from 
habit,  at  the  time  appointed,  went  upon  deck 
without  being  called,  and  found  it  entirely  desert- 
ed. He  immediately  gave  the  alarm,  and  all 
who  remained  on  board  were  soon  upon  deck. 

Frank's  courage  had  held  out  manfully,  hith- 
erto, but  when  he  saw  the  terrible  condition  to 
which  they  were  now  reduced,  he  sat  down  and 
wept  piteously.  "  My  father,  my  dear  father,  I 
shall  never  see  you  again,"  said  he,  with  a  burst- 
ing heart. 

Brandon,  who  was  but  just  able  to  crawl  upon 


84  A    SAIL. 

deck,  at  the  sight  of  Frank's  sorrow  was  in  abso 
lute  despair. 

The  water  was  gaining  rapidly  in  the  hold. 
The  sailors  said  the  vessel  could  not  remain  above 
water  more  than  twelve  hours  longer. 

The  captain  seemed  utterly  to  have  lost  his 
reason.  He  was  calm,  but  it  was  not  the  calm- 
ness of  a  strong  mind ;  it  was  the  fearful  indiffer- 
ence of  idiotic  derangement. 

The  sailors  went  to  work  to  construct  a  raft. 
They  endeavoured  to  cheer  Frank  with  the  hope 
that  they  might  thus  be  saved,  and  he  aroused 
himself  to  assist  them  in  their  labor. 

As  soon  as  it  was  finished,  he  attempted  to  go 
below  to  get  his  chest,  or  at  least  some  of  his 
clothing.  It  was  already  under  water.  Joseph 
was  sorely  distressed  when  he  found  that  his 
chest,  too,  was  not  to  be  recovered. 

They  had  hitherto  had  an  abundance  of  water 
and  provisions ;  but  the  men  in  the  long-boat  had 
carried  off  a  quantity,  and  what  remained  would 
not  long  hold  out. 

Far  in  the  distance  the  anxious  eyes  of  one  of 
the  sailors  discovered  a  mere  speck  in  the  hori- 
zon. It  might  be  a  sail,  it  might  be  only  a 
cloud.  It  grew  larger  and  larger.  It  was  a  sail  1 


A    SAIL.  85 

O,  how  the  hearts  of  the  poor  fellows  throbbed 
with  anxiety  as  they  watched  the  increasing  mast, 
and  then  the  hull  of  the  vessel,  as  it  came  up 
fully  to  view.  It  was  steering  towards  them.  It 
came  nearer  and  nearer  hour  after  hour.  At  last 
they  shouted,  and  made  signals,  though  still  too 
distant  to  be  heard.  On,  on,  came  the  vessel, 
bounding  over  the  waves. 

"  Captain  !  "  said  Frank,  "  Captain  !  we  shall 
be  saved." 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  "  said  the  poor  captain, 
without  the  slightest  expression  of  joy. 

44  Could  I  not  possibly  get  at  my  chest  ?  "  said 
Brandon.  "  What  will  people  think  of  me  in 
these  old  clothes  ?  " 

46  It  would  not  be  safe  to  make  the  attempt," 
was  the  reply  of  one  of  the  sailors,  an  experi- 
enced tar. 

44  Never  mind  your  clothes,  Joe,  if  your  life  is 
saved.  There  comes  a  boat, —  hurrah!"  cried 
Frank. 

It  was  an  English  brig,  bound  for  Fayal.  The 
boat  was  soon  alongside. 

44 Halloo!  shipmates!"  said  a  bluff  English 
sailor ;  u  you  do  n't  spread  much  canvass.  I  'm 
afraid  you  're  bound  for  Davy's  locker."  And 


Ob  A   SAIL. 

he  I  jmped  upon  the  deck,  now  almost  level  with 
the  ocean,  followed  by  his  companions. 

The  story  of  their  misfortunes  was  soon  told. 

"  Hurry !  hurry !  "  said  the  first  speaker ;  "  we 
nave  n't  a  second  to  lose.  What  ails  your  cap- 
tain ?  He  seems  in  a  brown  study." 

w  He  has  been  very  ill,  and  since  his  misfor- 
tunes seems  to  have  lost  his  reason.  We  must 
help  him  on  board,"  said  Frank,  taking  him 
kindly  by  the  hand.  "  We  must  leave  the  poor 
Sally  Ann." 

"  That  was  my  wife's  name,"  said  the  captain. 
"  Must  we  go  ?  Well,  just  as  you  say  " ;  and  he 
stepped  into  the  boat.  Brandon,  Frank,  and  the 
sailors  followed. 

A  few  casks  of  biscuit,  and  some  other  things 
of  little  value,  were  all  that  could  be  saved  from 
the  wreck. 

They  rowed  for  the  brig;  and,  after  having 
been  cordially  welcomed  by  the  English  captain 
and  crew,  they  turned  to  see,  once  more,  the 
wreck  of  the  Sally  Ann. 

"The  shattered  thing 
Had  passed  away  and  left  no  mark." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


FAYAL. 

WITH  a  fair  wind  the  brig  went  on  towards 
Fayal.  There  seemed  but  little  change  in  the 
captain  from  day  to  day,  and  yet  he  was  declin- 
ing. Frank  attended  upon  him  with  as  much  de- 
votedness  as  if  he  had  been  his  father. 

The  cry  of  "  Land,  land,"  the  third  day  after 
they  left  the  wreck,  started  the  captain  from  a 
long  sleep.  Frank  was  sitting  by  him.  He  knew 
him,  and  calling  him  by  name,  said  ''  Was  not 
that  the  cry  of  land  ?  " 

"  It  was,"  said  Frank,  pleased  to  see  that  the 
captain  had  once  more  his  reason.  "  Here  is 
Captain  Brown  who  will  tell  you  what  it  is." 

"  How  are  you,  Captain  ?  Better,  I  hope.  We 
shall  soon  be  in  port.  The  land  is  a  high  moun 
tain  in  one  of  the  Azores,  called  the  Peak,"  said 
the  English  captain. 

jffc**  ' 

, 


88  FATAL. 

"  I  have  a  dim  recollection  of  escape  from  a 
wreck.  The  poor  Sally  Ann,  did  she  go  down, 
Frank  ?  "  asked  Captain  Wye,  in  a  mournful 
voice. 

"  She  did,  Sir,  but  all  were  saved,"  replied 
Frank. 

"  You  are  a  good  lad,  Frank,  God  bless  you," 
said  the  poor  captain  ;  then,  lowering  his  voice 
almost  to  a  whisper,  he  said,  "  You  pray  some- 
times, Frank,  do  n't  you  ?  Well,  pray  for  me, 
for  I  am  going  to  my  long  account.  Bury  me  in 
the  ocean,  Captain,  I  shall  rest  better  there." 

For  a  few  moments  he  was  silent ;  he  thought 
of  his  far-distant  home.  He  then  called  Frank 
again,  and  said,  u  Here,  my  brave  boy,  take  my 
watch,  it  is  all  I  have  to  give  you,  —  it  keeps  true 
time  ;  and  when  you  get  home,  go  to  New  Bed- 
ford and  tell  my  wife  all  about  my  misfortunes. 
Call  the  other  boys." 

The  sailors  were  called. 

44  Well,  my  lads,  your  captain  's  just  going," 
said  he.  "  Keep  steady,  boys,  and  then,  you 
know,  all 's  well.  There  's  nothing  more  com- 
fortable than  a  clean  conscience  when  one  is 
about  to  die.  Brandon,  I  thought  you  would 
have  gone  before  me,  but  it  seems  you  stay  a 


FATAL.  89 

'hile  longer.  Be  kind  to  Frank,  whatever  hap- 
pens ;  he  has  been  kind  enough  to  you.  God 
-aless  you,  Captain  Brown.  Take  good  care  of 
these  poor  fellows." 

And  here  the  captain's  mind  wandered  again  ; 
he  muttered  indistinctly  for  a  while,  and  then  was 
for  ever  silent.  In  a  few  hours  he  had  breath- 
ed his  last. 

"  They  saw  the  pomp  of  day  depart,  — 

The  cloud  resign  its  golden  crown,  — 
When  to  the  ocean's  beating  heart 

The  sailor's  wasted  corse  went  down. — 
Peace  he  to  those  whose  graves  are  made 
Beneath  the  bright  and  silver  wave." 

The  town  of  Villa  de  Horta,  in  Fayal,  is  in- 
habited principally  by  the  Portuguese.  At  the 
time  of  the  arrival  of  Captain  Brown  with  the 
wrecked  seamen  from  the  Sally  Ann,  it  happened 
there  was  no  American  consul  there,  and  only 
one  American  resident  in  the  place.  Vessels 
from  the  United  States,  however,  frequently  visit- 
ed the  island ;  and  the  captain,  after  giving  each 
of  <ih<}  sailors  a  full  suit  of  coarse  clothes,  left 
tfom  to  find  what  opportunity  they  could  to  re- 
t  *Q  to  their  own  country. 

The  very  next  day,  the  two  sailors  shipped  on 


90  FATAL. 

board  a  returning  East-Indiaman,  in  want  of 
hands,  leaving  Joseph  and  Frank  to  take  care  of 
each  other. 

They  walked  abou-  for  some  time,  inquiring  if 
there  were  any  residents  from  the  United  States. 
The  Portuguese,  whom  they  met,  (}id  not  under- 
stand them  ;  but  at  length  an  Englishman  direct- 
ed them  to  a  well-built  house  in  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets,  saying  it  was  the  dwelling  of  an 
American  merchant. 

Frank  and  Joe,  with  beating  hearts,  stood  at  the 
door  of  their  fellow-countryman.  A  Portuguese 
servant  appeared,  who  was,  after  much  difficulty, 
made  to  comprehend  that  they  wished  to  speak 
with  his  master. 

A  tall,  spare  man,  with  a  hooked  nose  and 
small  grey  eyes,  soon  appeared. 

Joe  made  his  best  dancing-school  bow,  and,  as 
he  was  the  oldest,  chose  to  be  spokesman. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  you  see  before  you  two  un- 
fortunate young  gentlemen  from  the  United  State - 
who  have  had  the  misfortune  to  be  shipwrecked 
and  lose  all  their  clothes.  We  take  the  liberty  to 
present  our  deplorable  case  for  your  consideration 
We  are  not  sailors  in  the  common  acceptation  of 
the  term." 


FAYAL.  91 

Here  was  a  little  of  the  old  desire  to  be  a  gen- 
tleman. It  takes  a  long  time  to  overcome  early 
habits. 

"  I  see  plainly  you  are  a  couple  of  English 
runaway  sailor-boys,  and  I  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  you,"  said  the  stranger,  preparing  to  shut 
the  door  in  their  faces. 

"  Stay,  stay,  I  entreat  you,"  said  Frank.  "  We 
are  indeed  your  countrymen  ;  —  sailors  from  the 
Sally  Ann,  of  Boston." 

"  Yes,"  added  Joe,  "  and  we  both  belong  to 
very  respectable  families  at  home." 

"  I  am  not  anxious  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  such  highly  respectable  individuals,"  said  the 
man,  shutting  the  door,  and  bolting  it. 

Brandon,  who  had  so  recently  recovered  from 
severe  illness,  was  pale  and  weak.  He  sat  down 
upon  the  door-step,  exclaiming,  "  I  can  go  on 
further.  I  should  just  like  to  tell  that  fellow  that 
lie  is  no  gentleman." 

"  And  yet,  Joe,  he  was  a  remarkably  well- 
dressed  man,"  replied  Frank,  with  a  meaning 
smile.  "  At  least  you  can  rest  here  a  while,  till 
I  look  about  and  see  what  can  be  done." 

Frank  walked  off  briskly,  and  Joe  laid  down  a 
small  budget,  done  up  in  a  silk  handkerchief,  — 


92  FATAL 

nis  whole  worldly  possessions ;  and,  leaning  his 
head  upon  his  hands,  fell  into  sad  meditations. 

While  ho  was  thus  musing,  the  door  of  the 
house  again  opened,  and  the  Portuguese  servant 
appeared  and  began  scolding  him  in  a  violent 
manner.  The  words  he  did  not  understand,  but 
the  tones  and  gestures  plainly  intimated  that  it 
was  the  man's  intention  to  drive  him  away. 

As  Joe  had  agreed  to  wait  there  for  Frank,  he 
did  not  move,  but  said,  in  a  loud  tone,  "  Tell 
your  master  that  I  say  he  is  no  gentleman,  and 
when  I  get  home  I  will  report  him  as  a  mean 
fellow." 

The  servant  did  not  understand  this  but  the 
master,  who  was  at  an  open  window  above,  did, 
and  coming  down  to  the  door,  he  gave  the  little 
budget  a  kick  into  the  street,  and  said,  —  "  Be- 
gone, you  rascal,  and  if  I  catch  you  here  again 
I  will  give  you  a  good  cowhiding." 

"  But,"  said  Joe,  in  an  expostulatory  manner, 
u  I  am  to  wait  here  for  my  friend ;  and  Mr. 
Whats-your-name " 

"  My  name  is  George  Washington  Mudge,— 
'well  known  upon  'change,'  as  the  saying  is. 
You  report  me  at  home!  A  man  worth  forty 
ihousand  dollars  reported  as  a  mean  fellow  by 


FATAL.  93 

a  dirty,  low -lived  sailor-boy,  not  worth  a  brass 
farthing  ?  Who  would  believe  you  ?  Come ! 
be  going,  as  fast  as  your  feet  will  carry  you." 

"  I  wished  only  to  wait  here  till  Frank  Wood 
returned,  but  I  can  go  to  the  next  door-step," 
said  Joe,  picking  up  his  little  bundle  and  mut- 
tering, —  "  What  a  horrid  disgrace  to  the  name 
of  Washington !  What  a  disgrace  to  his  country ! 
A  man  worth  forty  thousand  dollars  too  !  " 

Disheartened,  and  actually  hungry,  he  sat  down 
upon  the  next  door-step,  and  there  he  waited  for 
Frank's  return  till  the  sun  was  sinking  below  the 
horizon. 

Meantime  Frank  passed  through  one  street,  and 
another,  and  another,  not  meeting  with  any  per- 
son whom  he  could  venture  to  address.  At  length 
he  bethought  himself  of  the  captain's  watch ;  and 
it  occurred  to  him,  if  he  could  dispose  of  that 
he  could  procure  lodgings  for  himself  and  Jo- 
seph. 

Seeing  a  large  goldsmith's  shop,  he  went  into 
it,  and  found  it  was  kept  by  a  Frenchman.  He 
handed  him  the  watch,  and  asked  how  much  he 
would  give  for  it.  The  goldsmith  looked  at  the 
watch,  a  fine  gold  repeater,  and  then  at  Frankr 
shook  his  head,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said, 


94  FAYAL, 

"  Where  you  get  him  watch,  you  English  boy  ,  I 
mend  him  vonce  for  von  Capitaine  Vy." 

"  Captain  Wye !  Did  you  know  him  ?  He 
was  my  captain  on  hoard  the  Sally  Ann,  and  he 
gave  me  that  watch  when  he  was  dying.  I  would 
not  part  with  it,  but  I  have  nothing  else  to  supply 
my  necessities  and  those  of  a  friend." 

"  Ah,  I  'fraid  you  no  come  honestly  by  him, 
but  I  give  you  twenty  dollars  for  him." 

At  this  moment  a  gentleman,  who  had  been 
standing  in  another  part  of  the  shop,  came  up, 
and  said,  "  Monsieur  Fourcher,  why  do  you  not 
speak  French  with  the  boy  ?  I  wish  to  hear  what 
he  has  to  say." 

"  The  very  reason  why  I  did  not  speak  to  him 
in  French  is,  because  I  wish  to  make  a  bargain 
with  the  young  rascal  who  has  stolen  this 
watch." 

'  Stolen  it ! "  exclaimed  Frank,  indignantly  ; 
"  I  told  you,  Sir,  it  was  the  gift  of  my  poor  cap- 
tain, his  parting  gift ;  and  cruel  necessity  alone 
obliges  me  to  dispose  of  it." 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  relate  the  particulars," 
maid  the  gentleman,  who  seemed  much  interested. 
tU  Let  me,  meantime,  examine  the  watch." 

The  goldsmith  seemed  reluctant  to  lef  it  go  out 
of  his  hands,  but  durst  not  refuse. 


FAYAL.  yo 

Frank  then  gave  a  brief  but  clear  account  of 
their  voyage  from  Boston  to  Gibraltar,  Mar- 
seilles, and  Smyrna,  and  from  thence  homeward, 
—  the  gale,  the  loss  of  the  vessel,  the  death  of 
Captain  Wye,  and  his  being  left  with  Brandon  at 
Fayal  without  any  means  of  returning  home.  As 
Frank  concluded  his  story,  he  said,  "  I  must 
hasten  to  my  friend,  for  he  will  be  alarmed  at  my 
long  absence." 

"  And  I  will  go  with  you,"  said  the  stranger. 
"  Monsieur  Fourcher,  you  must  wait  a  while  be- 
fore you  can  buy  this  watch  for  twenty  dollars, 
\\hich  must  have  cost  two  hundred." 

"  And  so  the  captain  left  you  unprovided  for  ? 
That  was  just  like  John  Bull,"  continued  he,  as 
they  walked  along. 

"  Excuse  me,  Sir,  you  are  mistaken.  He  was 
kind  to  us.  He  gave  me  the  clothes  I  have  on, 
and  a  suit  to  each  of  my  companions  in  misfor- 
tune." 

"  And  left  you  to  find  a  passage  home  as  you 
could.  And  where  are  you  going  to  stay  in  the 
mean  time  ?  " 

"  I  do  no;  know,  Sir,  but  I  have  already  met 
with  so  much  kindness  that  I  trust  Providence 
mil  open  the  -»vay  for  our*  speedy  return  home. 


96  FATAL. 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  met  with  rudeness  and 
unkindness  from  the  only  one  from  whom  we 
could  reasonably  have  expected  different  treat- 
ment,—  our  own  countryman  who  resides  here." 

"  One  Mr.  Mudge  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  his  name." 

"  As  mean  a  scoundrel  as  ever  disgraced  any 
country  is  that  same  Mudge,  for  I  have  no  doubt 
he  was  the  man.  He  set  up  a  little  huckster's 
shop  here  some  years  since,  and  has  scraped  to- 
gether a  few  thousands  by  all  manner  of  cheat- 
ing and  roguery,  rum-selling  and  so  forth." 

"  I  am  sorry  my  country  should  be  so  badly 
represented  here,"  replied  Frank,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  face  that  denoted  extreme  mortifica- 
tion. 

"  O,  every  country  has  its  rogues.  The 
Frenchman  is  one,  for  instance,  who  would  have 
taken  your  watch  for  one  tenth  of  its  true  value. 
Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  tell  me  how  you 
happened  to  be  a  sailor,  —  for  that  you  were  des- 
tined for  some  other  employment  I  am  certain." 

Frank  then  related  his  loss  of  health;  his* 
father's  profession;  his  advice  with  regard  to 
going  to  sea;  and  h'is  recovery  in  consequence 
The  stranger  had  already  heard  his  account  of  the 


FAYAL.  91 

gale  and  wreck.  He  listened  with  much  interest 
questioning  Frank  closely,  and  at  the  same  time 
politely. 

It  was  some  time  before  they  reached  the  place 
where  Brandon  was  left;  when  they  did  so,  he 
was  not  there.  Frank,  much  alarmed,  raised  the 
huge  old-fashioned  knocker,  and  gave  a  thunder- 
ing rap.  Mr.  Mudge  himself  appeared,  and,  see- 
ing only  Frank,  said,  in  a  very  harsh  tone, 
"  What !  one  of  those  young  scoundrels  again. 
Begone,  you  scamp,  and  do  n't  darken  my  door 
again." 

The  stranger  stepped  forward.  Though  ho 
did  not  understand  English,  the  threatening  tone 
was  not  to  be  misunderstood.  The  moment  Mr. 
Mudge  perceived  him,  he  bowed  in  the  most  obse- 
quious manner,  and  said,  in  Portuguese,  —  "  I  am 
most  happy  to  see  you,  Don  Francesco  Rebel 
ro ;  most  happy  to  see  you.  Do  me  the  honor  to 
walk  in." 

"  Much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Mudge  ;  I  only 
came  with  this  young  gentleman  in  search  of  his 
companion,"  coolly  replied  Don  Francesco. 

Brandon,  exhausted  by  weakness  and  fatigue, 
ha!  fallen  asleep  upon  the  neighbouring  door-step. 
The  noise  awakened  him  and  he  carne  forward, 


5fO  FATAL. 

"The  friend  of  whom  I  spoke,—- Josepn  Bran* 
dcn?"  said  Frank. 

"Your  fellow-countrymen,  Mr.  Mudge,"  said 
the  Don. 

"  I  do  n't  believe  a  word  of  it ;  they  are  runa- 
way English  sailors.  The  very  clothes  they  have 
on  are  English,"  replied  Mr.  Mudge. 

This  only  confirmed  what  Frank  had  said  of 
their  being  the  gift  of  the  English  captain. 

"Good  evening,  Mr.  Mudge,"  said  the  gen- 
tleman. "  Come,  my  lads,  we  will  see  where 
we  can  find  a  comfortable  place  for  you  to  lodge, 
and  to-morrow  find  out  what  further  can  be 
done  for  you." 

Not  far  distant  was  a  Portuguese  inn,  where 
he  left  them  for  the  night. 

Joe  made  wry  mouths  at  the  accommodations, 
which  were  neither  the  neatest  nor  most  luxuri- 
ous possible.  Frank  said  their  new  friend  was 
truly  a  good  Samaritan;  and  a  hearty  supper 
and  good  night's  repose  brought  Joe  to  the  same 
opinion 


CHAPTER  XV. 


REMEMBERED  KINDNESS. 

ACCORDING  to  promise,  the  Don  appeared  early 
the  next  morning. 

Refreshing  sleep  and  a  careful  morning  toilet 
had  wonderfully  improved  the  appearance  of  both 
the  boys. 

"I  related  your  story  to  my  wife,"  said  the 
Don  to  Frank,  "  and  she  is  very  anxious  to  see 
you.  She  has  been  in  the  United  States,  and  can 
talk  with  you  about  your  country." 

The  exterior  of  the  house  of  Don  Francesco 
was  plain,  but  the  interior  was  tastefully  and  rich- 
ly furnished. 

They  passed  through  several  large  splendidly 
furnished  apartments  to  a  smaller  room,  in  which 
was  a  lady,  with  easy,  lively  manners,  and  a 
very  pleasing  countenance.  She  received  them 


100  REMEMBERED    KINDNESS. 

with  great  politeness,  and  asked  Frank  to  have 
the  kindness  to  relate  his  own  story  and  that  of 
his  companion. 

He  dm  so,  in  d  brief  and  simple  manner,  and 
the  Donna  frequently  dashed  away  the  tears  from 
her  eyes  during  the  recital.  When  he  had  finish- 
ed, she  said  to  her  husband,  in  Portuguese,  "  Every 
word  of  this  recital  is  true,  I  am  sure.  Trust  to 
my  woman's  instinct,  —  this  is  a  noble  boy." 

She  then  inquired  if  they  had  ever  been  in 
Charleston,  South  Carolina.  They  had  not. 

"  I  once  spent  some  months  there,  and  re- 
ceived the  greatest  possible  kindness  and  hospi- 
tality from  entire  strangers,  and  I  am  anxious 
to  return  it,  in  some  degree,  to  your  countrymen." 
Then,  turning  to  her  husband,  she  said,  in  Por- 
tuguese, "We  must  try  and  do  all  we  can  to 
make  these  boys  comfortable  while  they  remain 
with  us.  Would  it  not  be  well  to  ask  them  to 
stay  with  us.  They  can  have  their  meals  served 
in  their  own  rooms." 

"  Just  as  you  say,  dearest." 

"  Well,  then,  propose  it  to  them." 

"  I  really  do  not  know  how  to  invite  them,  the 
younger  one  in  particular,  unless  I  do  it  as  I 
would  tc  any  gentleman." 


REMEMBERED   KINDNESS.  101 

*'  That  would  not  answer.  You  can  inquire  if 
they  would  like  to  remain  with  us,  or  would  pre- 
fer going  to  a  hotel." 

The  Donna  did  so,  and  Frank  replied,  with 
many  thanks  for  their  politeness,  that  of  course 
he  left  it  for  them  to  decide. 

"  Well,  then,  stay  with  us,"  said  the  Don,  cor- 
dially. 

There  is  something  wonderfully  pleasing  in 
the  earnest  truthfulness  of  a  well-bred  boy 
Frank  might  have  invented  a  falsehood,  but  he 
could  not  at  once  have  assumed  the  manners  and 
conversation  of  a  gentleman.  These  were  the 
corroborative  testimony,  the  strong  circumstantial 
evidence,  to  his  statement. 

Brandon,  who  did  not  understand  French,  was 
astonished  when  he  found  that  they  were  invited 
to  make  their  home  in  that  elegant  mansion. 
He  saw  that  Frank  was  everywhere  received  and 
treated  as  he  really  deserved  to  be,  under  what- 
ever disguise  he  might  appear.  He  could  not  but 
feel  his  own  inferiority,  and  resolutely  determin- 
ed that  he  would  endeavour  to  cultivate  those 
qualities  which  would  render  him  worthy  of  love 
jind  respect. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


A  SURPRISE. 

THE  next  morning,  at  breakfast,  the  Donna  seem- 
ed not  quite  at  ease.  Her  treatment  of  the  young 
sailors  was  such  as  would  have  satisfied  almost 
any  person  in  the  world.  She  had  fulfilled  that 
law  of  Christian  benevolence  to  which  a  reward 
is  promised,  —  "I  was  a  stranger  and  ye  took  me 
in,"  &c.  Yet  she  was  not  satisfied  with  her- 
self. She  said  to  her  husband,  "  No  doubt  we 
shall  even  now  be  called  romantic,  and  perhaps 
imprudent,  for  taking  these  unfortunate  ones  into 
our  house ;  but  you  know  it  is  immaterial  to  us 
what  people  say.  We  are  rich,  and  have  no  re- 
lations to  share  our  wealth  with  us.  I  am  not 
satisfied  with  our  reception  of  that  amiable  boy. 
It  seems  quite  uncivil  not  to  invite  our  guests  to 
our  own  table." 


A   SURPRISE.  103 

"  They  would  look  very  droll  at  your  table  ;  it 
is  quite  impossible,"  said  he. 

"No,  not  impossible,"  replied  his  wife,  "for 
we  can  easily  furnish  them  with  suitable  apparel, 
and  then,  I  am  sure  it  would  do  no  harm  to  any 
one.  I  should  like  to  have  that  contemptible  Mr. 
Mudge,  who  treated  them  so  cruelly,  see  Frank 
walking  with  me  dressed  as  he  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  be.  As  for  the  other  lad  I  do  not  know 
what  he  is,  as  he  cannot  speak  French.  He  is 
by  no  means  equal,  however,  to  his  compan- 
ion." 

"  Do  as  you  like,  my  dear,"  said  the  Don.  "  I 
believe  you  will  be  happier  for  having  discharged 
the  debt  of  obligation  to  these  Americans,  which 
you  incurred  long  since  to  some  of  their  fellow- 
countrymen." 

Don  Francesco  then  handed  her  his  purse,  say- 
ing, "  I  hardly  know  in  what  way  you  can  pro- 
pose to  them  to  purchase  better  clothing,  but  1 
leave  that  to  your  womanly  ingenuity." 

This,  to  the  Donna,  was  rather  a  difficult  task. 
She  requested  a  servant  to  call  the  young  gen- 
ilemen  into  the  drawing-room;  and,  in  a  very 
delicate  manner,  asked  to  be  allowed  to  be  their 
banker,  until  they  could  draw  upon  friends  at 
home. 


104  A    SURPRISE. 

Joe's  pride  was  really  or  apparently  aroused 
and  he  sa;.d,  "  He  could  not  think  of  receiving 
pecuniary  obligation  "  ;  but  Frank  gratefully  ac- 
cepted the  offer,  knowing  that  his  father  would 
remit  the  money  at  a  future  period.  He  advised 
Toe  not  to  pain  his  kind  hostes«  by  a  refusal. 

The  truth  was,  Joseph  had  no  idea  of  not  ac- 
cepting it,  but  he  thought,  very  erroneously,  that 
it  would  be  more  polite  to  make  a  great  ado 
about  it. 

The  purse  was  accepted,  and  the  contents  divid- 
ed equally  between  them. 

They  soon  started  off  to  purchase  an  entire  new 
suit  of  clothes,  and  make  such  other  additions  to 
their  wardrobe  as  were  needed. 

They  were  so  successful  that  they  returned 
before  dinner,  with  the  outer  man  completely 
renovated. 

It  was  amusing  to  see  the  difference  of  char- 
acter exhibited  in  their  dress.  The  flashy  style 
of  Joe  betrayed  his  lurking  fondness  for  finery. 
He  had  even  purchased  a  large  brooch  of  colored 
glass,  which,  to  say  the  loast,  looked  like  an 
emerald,  and  was  a  very  conspicuous  ornament. 
His  coat  was  green,  his  vest  yellow  and  red,  and 
his  pantaloons  blue ;  so  that  there  was  no  want 


A   SURPRISE.  105 

of  variety  in  colors.  This,  however,  was  only  a 
want  of  taste.  Joseph  was  improving  in  charac- 
ter. 

Frank's  dress  was  dark  blue,  with  a  white  vest, 
and  as  little  expensive  as  he  could  possibly  choose, 
although  he  was  morally  certain  that  it  would  not 
be  many  months  before  the  money  would  be  re- 
funded. 

At  the  dinner  hour,  an  invitation  was  sent  up 
for  the  young  gentlemen.  They  went  down  to 
a  sumptuous  meal,  such  as  they  never  had  seen, 
even  at  "  the  famous  French  dinner-party." 

The  kind  Donna  seemed  pleased  with  the 
change  the  boys  had  undergone.  She  said  to  her 
husband,  in  Portuguese,  "  I  'm  delighted  ;  what 
would  old  Mudge  say,  if  he  should  see  these 
young  gentlemen  ?  " 

According  to  the  old  proverb,  the  person  spoken 
of  was  near.  Mr.  George  W.  Mudge  was  shown 
into  the  dining-room.  The  Donna  requested  him 
to  take  a  seat  at  table.  He  bowed,  and  bowed 
lower  and  lower  each  time,  until  his  head  almost 
touched  the  carpet. 

"  You  do  me  great  honor,  Don  Francesco  Re- 
beiro,"  said  he.  "  I  should  have  been  here  ac- 
cording to  your  invitation  at  an  earlier  hour,  but 


106  A   SURPRISE. 

important  business  detained  me.  A  vessel  haa 
just  arrived  from  the  United  States,  and  its  cargo 
is  consigned  to  me." 

"  We  are  in  no  haste  to  part  with  our  young 
friends,  '  said  the  Don,  looking  at  Joseph  and 
Frank,  "  but  this  may  be  a  pleasant  opportunity 
for  them  to  return  to  their  country." 

"  What !  are  these  young  gentlemen  Ameri- 
cans ?  You  must  introduce  me  to  them." 

The  Don  did  so,  with  great  ceremony. 

"  Highly  delighted  to  see  you,  fellow-country- 
men ;  charmed ;  hope  for  a  better  acquaintance," 
exclaimed  Mudge;'  who,  by  the  way,  had  quite 
forgotten,  at  the  moment,  the  poor  sailor-boys. 

"Fine  looking  young  gentlemen,"  said  the 
Donna,  in  Portuguese. 

"  Beautiful !  "  replied  Mudge,  "  never  saw 
more  elegant  young  men.  Where  do  they  be- 
long ?  " 

"  They  will  tell  you." 

"  What  part  of  the  Union  claims  you,  Sir," 
said  Mr.  Mudge  to  Brandon. 

"  Boston  has  that  honor,"  replied  Brandon. 

"  The  cradle  of  liberty !  A  worthy  son  of 
New  England.  And  you,  my  fine  fellow  ?  " 

**  I  was  born  in  New  York,"  replied  Frank. 


A    SURPRISE.  107 

A  sudden  recollection  seemed  to  come  over 
the  mind  of  Mr.  Mudge.  He  repelled  the  thought, 
—  "  No ;  it  cannot  be  that  these  are  the  two  ship- 
wrecked sailor-boys,"  said  he  to  himself ;  then, 
again  addressing  them,  —  "I  hope  I  shall  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  at  my  house  often 
while  you  are  at  Fayal ;  —  make  it  quite  your 
home." 

"  Once  is  enough  for  me,"  said  Joe,  bluntly. 

The  suspicion,  then,  was  correct. 

"  Don  Francesco,  it  seems  I  have  been  labor- 
ing under  some  great  mistake.  Your  merry 
young  friends  played  a  trick  upon  me  by  appear- 
ing in  the  disguise  of  common  sailors." 

u  No  trick  at  all,  Mr.  Mudge ;  they  told  you  the 
plain  truth  ;  they  were  poor  shipwrecked  sailors, 
far  from  their  friends  and  country." 

"  Amazing  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Mudge,  dropping 
his  knife'and  fork,  and  rolling  up  his  little  grey 
eyes  to  the  ceiling. 

"  Do  not  lose  your  appetite  so  soon,"  said  the 
Donna. 

Mr.  Mudge  partly  recovered  himself,  saying, 
"  You  have  too  much  to  tempt  it,  Donna  •  there  is 
no  danger  of  that."  But  so  great  was  his  aston- 
ishment and  dismay  that  it  was  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult for  the  poor  man  to  swallo  -v. 


108  A    SURPRISE. 

The  Don  had  invited  Mr.  Mudge  to  dine  with 
him,  not  alone  to  mortify  him,  but  because  he 
thought  he  might  make  him  useful  to  his  young 
countrymen,  —  whether  he  were  willing  or  not  to 
be  obliging  to  them.  He  knew  it  was  too  much 
for  Mr.  Mudge's  own  interest  not  to  oblige  him, 
he  therefore  said,  —  "Who  is  the  captain  of  the 
American  vessel,  and  when  does  she  sail  for  the 
United  States  ?  " 

"  Captain  Harrison,  brig  Sea-gull ;  sails  in 
about  a  week  for  New  York." 

Frank  did  not  understand  what  had  been  said, 
as  it  was  in  Portuguese,  but  at  the  name  of  New 
York  his  heart  bounded,  the  blood  flushed  his  face, 
and  he  unconsciously  repeated,  half  aloud,  "  New 
York  !  New  York  !  " 

"  You  are  then  extremely  anxious  to  see  your 
native  city  ?  "  said  the  Donna. 

"  I  am,  indeed,"  replied  Frank,  "  for  I  fear  my 
father  may  hear  of  the  wreck  of  the  Sally  Ann, 
and  will  mourn  for  me  as  dead.  Being  an  only 
son,  the  loss  will  be  great  to  him." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  imposed  upon,  Don 
Francesco,"  said  Mr.  Mudge.  "  What  if  you 
should  find  that  these  are  really  English  runa- 
ways? > 


A   SURPRISE.  109 

"  I  shall  say,  that  neither  my  wife  noi  myself 
are  capable  of  judging  of  character,  and  that  you 
are  a  man  of  infinite  discernment,"  said  the  Don, 
somewhat  sarcastically.  "  But  I  am  not  troubled 
about  it.  Ask  Captain  Harrison  if  he  can  take 
two  passengers,  and  what  will  be  the  passage- 
money  to  New  York." 

"  I  will,  Don,  and  moreover  I  shall  ask  him  if 
he  ever  heard  of  such  a  person  as  Dr.  Wood. 
Are  they  to  be  cabin  passengers  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  Don,  who  had  no  idea 
of  making  a  half-way  business  of  the  benevolenj 
task  he  had  undertaken. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


THE   AZORES. 

"  HAVE  you  ever  known  much  of  the  Azores  t  ' 
inquired  the  Don  of  Frank. 

"  I  have  read  very  little  about  them,"  he  re- 
plied. "  I  know  they  lie  ahout  800  miles  from 
Cape  St.  Vincent,  and  are  supposed  to  have  been 
discovered  and  settled  by  the  Portuguese.  I  have 
seen  volcanic  specimens  from  these  islands  in  the 
mineralogical  cabinet  of  Yale  College,  in  Con- 
necticut, and  that  is  all  the  information  that  I 
have  about  them." 

u  It  was  of  their  volcanic  origin  that  I  was 
about  to  speak,"  continued  the  Don.  "  Some, 
if  not  all  of  them,  must  have  been  formed  by 
earthquakes  or  volcanic  eruptions.  I  wish  the 
American  consul  had  not  been  absent  from  Fayal. 
during  your  stay,  as  he  would  have  accompanied 


THE   AZORES.  Ill 

us  on  a  little  trip  that  I  have  projectei  for  the 
morrow.  I  am  going  to  take  you,  if  it  is  agree- 
able, over  to  St.  George.  With  a  fair  wind  we 
can  go  over  in  about  five  hours.  There  was  a 
tremendous  eruption  on  that  island  in  1808,  and 
its  present  condition  affords  much  that  is  interest- 
ing." 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning,  the  Don  ant! 
Donna,  with  their  young  guests,  embarked  in  a 
small  vessel  for  St.  George.  The  sky  was  beau- 
tifully clear  and  serene,  but  the  Don  said  they 
were  subject  to  violent  winds  in  that  region,  and 
could  never  be  sure  of  the  continuance  of  such 
delightful  weather,  even  during  a  single  day. 

"  You  know,"  said  he,  "  they  say  that  no  ser- 
pents of  any  kind  (through  the  influence  of  St 
Patrick)  can  live  in  Ireland.  It  is  true  that  our 
fertile  islands  give  birth  to  no  poisonous  reptiles, 
and  it  is  generally  believed  that  if  they  were 
brought  here,  they  would  soon  expire." 

"  I  shall  always  think  of  Fayal  as  a  little  para- 
dise," remarked  Frank. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  one  noxious  animal  that 
you  have  found  here,  —  Mr.  Mudge,"  said  the 
Donna. 

"  He  is  of  foreign  growth,"  replied  Frank,  "  and 


112  THE   AZORES. 

it  is  a  wonder  how  he  can  thrive  among  beings 
so  different.''' 

By  this  time  they  had  arrived  at  St.  George. 
After  a  ride  of  four  miles,  they  came  to  the  foot 
of  the  crater ;  its  elevation  is  about  3,500  feet. 

They  mounted  up  its  rough  sides,  and  had,  be- 
sides the  view  of  the  crater,  a  fine  prospect  of  the 
sea,  dotted  with  the  other  islands  belonging  to  the 
Aeores. 

"  The  American  consul,  who  was  resident  at 
Fayal  at  the  time  of  this  eruption,"  said  the  Don, 
44  gave  the  best  account  of  it  that  I  have  seen,  in 
a  letter  to  a  friend  of  mine,  who  then  resided  at 
St.  Michael's,  one  of  the  largest  of  the  Azores. 
It  was  as  follows  :  — 

44  4  On  Sunday,  the  1st  of  May,  at  one,  P.  M., 
walking  in  the  balcony  of  my  house  at  St.  Anto- 
nio, I  heard  noises  like  the  report  of  heavy  can- 
non at  a  distance,  and  concluded  there  was  some 
sea-engagement  in  the  vicinity  of  the  island.  But 
soon  after,  casting  my  eyes  towards  the  island  of 
St.  George,  ten  leagues  distant,  I  perceived  a 
dense  volume  of  smoke  rising  to  an  immense 
height ;  it  was  soon  judged  that  a  volcano  had 
burst  out  about  the  centre  of  that  island,  and  this 
was  rendered  certain  when  night  came  on,  —  the 
<ire  exhibiting  an  awful  appearance. 


THE   AZORES.  113 

'  *  Being  desirous  of  viewing  this  wonderful  ex- 
ertion of  nature,  I  embarked,  on  the  3d  of  May, 
accompanied  by  the  British  consul  and  ten  other 
gentlemen,  for  St.  George's,  and  arrived  at  Vellas, 
the  principal  town,  at  eleven,  A.  M. 

"  '  We  found  the  poor  inhabitants  perfectly  panic- 
struck  and  wholly  given  up  to  religious  ceremo- 
nies and  devotion  ;  and  learned  that  the  fire  had 
broken  out  in  a  ditch,  in  the  midst  of  fertile  pas- 
tures, three  leagues  southeast  of  Vellas,  and  had 
immediately  formed  a  crater,  in  size  about  twenty- 
four  acres.  It  threw  out  small  cinders  arid  pum- 
ice-stones. The  fire  of  this  large  crater  had 
nearly  subsided,  but  on  the  evening  preceding 
our  arrival  another  small  crater  had  opened,  one 
league  north  of  the  large  one. 

u  'After  taking  some  refreshment,  we  visited  the 
second  crater,  the  sulphurous  smoke  of  which, 
driven  southerly,  rendered  an  attempt  to  approach 
the  large  one  impracticable. 

"  c  When  we  came  within  a  mile  of  the  crater, 
we  found  the  earth  rent  in  every  direction,  and, 
as  we  approached  nearer,  some  of  the  chasms 
were  six  feet  wide  ;  by  leaping  over  some  of  these 
chasms,  and  making  windings  to  avoid  the  larger 
ones,  we  at  length  arrived  within  two  hundred 


]  14  THE   AZORES. 

yards  of  the  spot,  and  saw  it  distinctly,  in  the 
middle  of  a  pasture. 

"  *  The  mouth  of  it  was  only  about  fifty  yards 
in  circumference  ;  the  fire  seemed  struggling  for 
vent ;  the  force  with  which  the  pale  blue  flame 
issued  forth  resembled  a  powerful-steam-engine^ 
multiplied  a  hundred-fold.  The  noise  was  deaf- 
ening ;  the  earth  where  we  stood  had  a  tremulous 
motion ;  the  whole  island  seemed  convulsed ; 
horrid  bellowings  were  occasionally  heard  from 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  earthquakes  were 
frequent. 

" '  After  remaining  here  about  ten  mmutes,  we 
returned  to  town.  The  inhabitants  had  mostly 
quitted  their  houses,  and  remained  in  the  open  air, 
or  under  tents. 

"  '  On  the  same  day,  (the  4th  of  May,)  we  re- 
turned to  Fayal,  and  on  the  5th  and  the  succeed- 
ing days,  from  twelve  to  fifteen  small  volcanoes 
broke  out  in  the  very  fields  we  had  traversed  on 
the  3d,  from  the  chasms  before  described,  and 
threw  out  a  quantity  of  lava,  which  travelled  on 
slowly  towards  Vellas.  The  (Ire  of  those  small 
craters  subsided,  and  the  lava  ceased  running, 
abo-!f  the  llth  of  May,  on  which  day  the  large 
;olcano,  that  had  lain  dormant  for  nine  days, 


THE   AZORES.  115 

burst  forth  again  like  a  roaring  lion,  with  horrid 
belch  ings,  distinctly  heard  at  twelve  leagues'  dis* 
tance  ;  throwing  up  prodigiously  large  stones  and 
an  immense  quantity  of  lava,  illuminating  at 
night  the  whole  island.  This  continued  with  tre- 
mendous force  until  the  5th  of  June,  exhibiting 
the  awful  yet  magnificent  spectacle  of  a  perfect 
river  of  fire  (distinctly  seen  from  Fayal)  run- 
ning into  the  sea.  In  a  few  days  after,  it  ceased 
entirely. 

" '  The  lava  inundated  and  swept  away  entirely 
the  town  of  Ursulina,  and  country-houses  and 
cottages  adjacent,  as  well  as  the  farm-houses 
throughout  its  course.  As  usual,  it  gave  timely 
notice  of  its  approach,  and  most  of  the  inhabi- 
tants fled ;  some  few,  however,  remaining  in  the 
vicinity  of  it  too  long,  endeavouring  to  save  their 
furniture  and  effects,  were  scalded  by  flashes  of 
steam,  which,  without  injuring  their  clothes,  took 
off  not  only  their  skin  but  their  flesh.  About  six- 
ty persons  were  thus  miserably  scalded,  some  of 
whom  died  on  the  spot  or  a  few  days  after.  Num- 
bers of  cattle  shared  the  same  fate. 

" '  The  judge  and  principal  inhabitants  left  the 
island  very  early.  The  consternation  and  anxiety 
were  for  some  days  so  great  among  the  people, 


116  THE   AZORES. 

Jiat  even  their  domestic  concerns  were  abandon- 
ed, and,  amidst  plenty,  they  were  in  danger  of 
starving.  Supplies  of  ready -baked  bread  were 
sent  from  hence  to  their  relief,  and  large  boats  to 
bring  away  the  inhabitants  who  had  lost  their 
dwellings. 

" c  In  short,  the  island,  heretofore  rich  in  cattle, 
corn,  and  wine,  is  nearly  ruined,  and  a  scene  of 
greater  desolation  and  distress  has  seldom  been 
witnessed  in  any  country.' 

"  Thus  far  the  American  consul.  You  see," 
said  the  Don,  "  that  this  scene  of  desolation  is  now 
partly  relieved  ;  vines  have  sprung  up  over  a  part 
that  was  at  that  time  nearly  desolate,  but  the 
traces  of  the  streams  of  lava  we  can  still  discern." 

"  The  night  is  fast  approaching,  but,  as  the 
moon  is  at  the  full,  the  sail  of  ten  leagues  to 
Fayal  will  be  delightful,"  said  the  Donna. 

The  wind  blew  a  brisk  breeze,  and  although 
not  fair,  it  wafted  them  in  seven  or  eight  hours 
back  to  Fayal. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

THE  week  previous  to  the  sailing  of  the  Sea- 
gull was  a  very  useful  and  interesting  one  to 
Frank  and  Joseph.  Their  kind  host  and  hostess 
enjoyed  highly  the  gratification  they  were  able  to 
afford  their,  young  guests. 

Often,  when  looking  at  Frank,  would  the  Don- 
na say  to  herself,  "  Would  that  Heaven  had  grant- 
ed me  such  a  son  !  " 

Mr  Mudge,  finding  how  much  it  was  for  his 
interest  to  be  obliging  to  the  guests  of  Don 
Francesco  Rebeiro,  bestirred  himself  to  secure 
their  passage  as  cabin  passengers,  and  one  would 
have  thought  that  he  was  intensely  anxious  for 
their  welfare.  This  anxiety  was  doubtless  much 
increased  by  finding  there  was  an  eminent  phy- 
sician in  New  York  by  the  name  of  Dr.  Wood 


118  HOMEWARD   BOUND. 

lie  went  so  far  as  to  invite  the  Don  and  Donna, 
with  Joseph  and  Frank,  to  "  take  tea"  with  him 
and  as  they  all  were  curious  to  see  how  he  kept 
bachelor's  hall,  the  invitation  was  accepted. 

The  Portuguese  servant,  who  had  so  efficiently 
aided  his  ma?tftr  in  the  ejectment  of  Joseph  from 
his  premises,  was  cook,  waiter,  vaiet,  and  cham- 
ber-maid to  the  establishment.  He  answered  the 
knock  at  the  door,  on  the  arrival  of  the  guests, 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  green  baize,  turned  up  with 
yellow  flannel,  —  a  livery  servant. 

Every  room  in  the  house  was  used  for  the 
storage  of  some  kinds  of  goods.  Kegs,  barrels, 
boxes,  hampers,  champagne-baskets,  demijohns, 
bottles,  were  usually  in  dire  confusion.  Now, 
they  were  covered  with  baizes  and  other  cloths. 

The  parlour  was  fitted  up  with  red,  green,  and 
blue  flannel,  arranged  according  to  the  taste  of 
master  and  man.  The  table  was  garnished  with 
a  variety  of  china  and  crockery,  from  three  quar- 
ters of  the  globe,  —  pieces  that  never  dreamed  of 
being  related  to  each  other. 

At  the  head  of  the  table  sat  the  lean  man 
pouring  tea  from  a  black  teapot,  that  was  of 
Yankee  origin,  and  might  have  belonged  to  Mr 
Mudge's  grandmother,  —  pouring  it  into  beautiful 
Dresden  china. 


HOMEWARD   BOUND.  119 

"  How  astonishing  strange  it  was,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Mudge,  "  that  I  should  not  have  known  that 
these  were  young  gentleman,  in  any  disguise. 
It  must  have  been  my  rascal  of  a  servant,  who 
came  to  me  with  such  a  horrid  story  of  two  fierce 
looking  sailors,  that  I  could  not  see  exactly  with 
my  own  eyes.  I,  who  have  been  so  much  in 
gentlemen's  company,  surely  ought  to  have 
known  one  as  quick  as  1  know  real  Mocha 
coffee." 

"  I  do  not  think,  Sir,  that  it  is  strange,"  said 
Frank,  "  for  we  were  in  a  sad  condition,  and 
must  have  looked  badly." 

"  But  Mr.  Brandon  —  who  now  looks  so  very 
elegant  —  it  is  most  monstrous  strange  that  I 
should  have  treated  him  so  unceremoniously," 
said  Mr.  Mudge. 

"  O,  it  is  of  no  consequence,"  replied  Joseph. 
u  I  shall  never  mention  it  when  I  get  home." 

"  I  can't  get  over  it,  though.  Don  Francesco, 
you  must  be  a  man  of  infinite  discernment  to 
nave  seen  through  these  youngsters." 

"  I  was  much  aided  by  the  discrimination  of 
my  wife  ;  you  know  the  ladies  have  a  quicker 
insight  into  character  than  we  have,"  said  ths 
Don. 


120  HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

u  There  you  have  the  advantage  over  me.  i 
have  never  had  time  to  pay  my  devours  to  the 
ladies,"  said  Mr.  Mudge,  with  a  piteous  grimace. 
4  Donna,  I  beg  you  to  help  yourself  freely, —  and 
help  the  lads.  I  '11  warrant  they  have  had  keen 
appetites  after  their  long  starvation.  Have  n't 
they  ? " 

The  Donna  actually  blushed  with  embarrass- 
ment at  this  singular  question,  and  did  not  an- 
swer it. 

The  visit  was  an  amusing  one,  and  yet  by  no 
means  agreeable,  and  they  were  glad  when  it  was 
time  to  return  home. 

The  day  at  length  arrived  for  the  sailing  of 
the  Sea-gull.  The  Don  saw  that  every  thing  nice 
and  comfortable  was  provided,  by  way  of  cloth 
ing  and  stores,  for  the  voyage. 

"  And  have  you  no  parting  request  to  make  of 
me,  my  young  friend  ?  "  inquired  the  Donna  of 
Frank  ;  affectionately  taking  his  hand. 

"  I  have  two  requests  to  make,"  replied  he, 
u  one  is  that  Don  Francesco  and  the  Donna 
«nake  a  voyage  to  the  United  States,  and  allow 
my  father  the  honor  of  receiving  them  at  his 
house,  and  me  the  pleasure  of  showing  them 
every  thing  worthy  of  observation  in  my  native 
city." 


IIOMEWAKD   BOUND.  12^1 

"It  would  give  us  the  greatest  pleasure,'1 
warmly  replied  the  Donna,  "  for  we  have  a 
strong  inducement  to  do  so,  now  that  we  shall 
have  a  particular  friend  there.  But  is  there  not 
something  that  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  second  request ;  pardon  me  if  I 
am  too  bold.  I  should  like  to  possess  that  minia- 
ture likeness  of  yourself,1'  replied  Frank,  point- 
ing to  a  beautiful  painting  on  ivory  suspended 
over  the  mantel-piece.  "  I  shall  never  forget 
your  kindness,  but  I  may  not  be  able  to  retain 
the  exact  impression  of  those  features.  Besides, 
it  resembles  my  dear  mother,  and  henceforth  1 
shall  love  to  think  of  you  together." 

The  Donna  handed  him  the  miniature,  with- 
out saying  a  word,  but  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

Joseph  had  been  practising,  under  Frank's 
instruction,  a  farewell  speech  in  French,  and 
really  succeeded  very  well  as  he  said,  — 

"Don  and  Donna  Rebeiro,  I  am  exceedingly 
obliged  to  you  for  your  hospitable  politeness. 
My  mother  and  sisters  will  bless  you  as  long  aa 
they  live,  and  I  shall  ever  hold  you  in  grateful 
remembrance.  Adieu." 

"  Let  me  hear  from  you  both,  by  the  earliest 
possible  opportunity,"  said  the  Don. 


122  HOMEWARD   BOUND. 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Frank  ;  "  my  father  will 
be  most  happy  to  discharge  his  indebtedness  to 
you  as  soon  as  possible." 

"No,  my  dear  boy,  not  a  word  of  that;  I 
insist  that  you  and  your  friend  do  me  the  favor 
never  again  to  allude  to  this  matter.  On  that 
condition,  alone,  I  promise  to  return  your  visit  at 
no  distant  day.  Captain  Harrison  was  quite  in- 
dignant at  the  oifer  I  made  him  with  regard  to 
passage-money,  saying,  '  Things  had  come  to  a 
pretty  pass  if  a  Yankee  could  not  be  as  generous 
as  a  Portuguese.  I  want  company  in  my  cabin, 
and  consider  it  a  lucky  chance  to  have  two  nice 
young  fellows  with  me.'  He  is  a  frank,  noble- 
hearted  man,  and  I  am  quite  easy  to  intrust  you 
to  his  care." 

The  parting  words  had  all  been  said,  and  Jo- 
seph and  Frank  were  once  more  upon  the  waters. 

Captain  Harrison  was  a  jovial  sailor,  and  yet 
a  man  of  good  morals,  and  good  plain  sense. 
Nothing  in  his  deportment  showed  that  he  was 
doing  a  favor  to  his  young  passengers. 

The  voyage  was  rapid  and  free  from  storms. 
In  twelve  days  after  leaving  Fayal,  land  was  in 
sight. 

u  My  own,  my  native  land ! "  exclaimed 
Frank,  with  heartfelt  enthusiasm. 


HOMEWARD   BOUND.  123 

4  *  c*idll  be  sorry  to  part  with  you,  Frank," 
-said  the  captain,  "  If  you  ever  go  to  sea  again, 
ship  with  me.  I  should  like  to  see  if  you  could 
act  the  sailor  as  well  as  you  do  the  gentleman. 
And  you,  Brandon,  I  Ve  given  you  some  tough 
lessons,  hard  enough  to  swallow,  but  I  hope  they 
will  do  you  good.  But  on  the  whole  you  have 
made  yourself  agreeable  ;  you  do  play  a  first  rate 
game  of  chess." 

"  I  trust  I  shall  not  be  obliged  to  go  to  sea 
again  ;  for  my  father,  I  am  sure,  will  be  unwilling 
to  part  with  me,"  replied  Frank ;  "  but  if  I  should, 
I  prefer  you  for  my  captain  to  any  man  I  know." 

"  And  so  should  I,"  said  Joseph.  "  I  do  not 
know  how  I  shall  ever  repay  you  for  your  kind- 
ness." 

"  Poh !  poh  !  do  n't  say  a  word  of  that.  I  was 
provoked  to  think  that  furrener  should  offer  me 
money  for  carrying  home  two  shipwrecked 
fellow-countrymen.  I  am  afraid  he  judges  us 
all  by  that  skinflint  Mudge,  but  he  is  no  more 
like  a  genuine  Yankee  than  a  potato  is  like  a 
Connecticut  pumpkin." 

"Then  you  are  a  Connecticut  man?"  said 
Frank. 

"That  I  am,"  replied  the  captain,  '  a  true- 


124  HOMEWARD   BOUND. 

born  Yankee,  from  Stonington,  and  proud  to  ac 
knowledge  it  all  the  world  over.  I  have  seen  a 
great  deal  of  this  round  earth,  but  I  never  saw 
any  thing  to  equal  old  Connecticut.  Has  n't  every 
body  heard  of  her  clocks,  colleges,  and  common 
schools?  " 

"And  her   wooden  nutmegs,"   said   Brandon. 

"  There  now,  Mr.  Brandon,"  replied  the  cap- 
tain, "  you  are  not  so  much  of  a  gentleman  as 
you  might  be.  Frank  Wood  would  have  cut  off 
his  little  finger  before  he  would  have  said  that. 
But  there  is  no  making  a  silken  purse  out  of  a 
pig's  ear." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  captain,"  exclaimed  Jo- 
seph. "I  really  did  not  think  you  could  be  so 
sensitive  about  the  honor  of  old  Connecticut." 

"  It 's  only  because  you  are  from  the  Bay 
State,  which  happens  to  be  a  very  little  larger 
The  pardon  is  granted  ;  —  but,  remember,  never 
jest  about  a  man's  wife  to  her  husband,  nor  about 
Connecticut  to  a  Stonington  man  ";  and  the  cap- 
tain turned  upon  his  heel  and  whistled  Yankee 
Doodle. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


HOME. 

WITH  a  tirobbing  heart,  Frank  Wood  saw  the 
spires  of  New  York  rise  out  of  the  water. 

The  health  officers  came  on  board,  and  finding 
(he  Sea-gull  had  sailed  from  a  port  where  there 
was  no  prevailing  malignant  disease,  and  had  had 
no  sickness  .on  board,  the  passengers  were  allow- 
ed to  land. 

How  anxiously  Frank  looked  into  every  face 
to  recognize  a  familiar  one  among  the  crowd. 
All  were  strangers,  hurrying  by,  intent  upon 
their  own  business.  No  one  knew  or  cared  for 
him.  * 

He  left  Brandon  on  board  the  vessel  until  he 
should  have  seen  his  father  and  communicated  to 
him  how  closely  he  had  been  connected  with  his 
friend,  and  how  much  Joseph  had  needed  kind 
aess. 


126  HOME. 

As  lie  stood  at  the  door  of  his  own  home,  he 
nardly  dared  to  lay  his  hand  upon  the  bell-knob. 
It  was  at  last  pulled  so  faintly  that  its  feeble  sound 
intimated  a  poor  beggar -child,  fearful  of  refusal 
to  a  solicitation  of  charity. 

The  waiter — who  appeared  a  new  servant  in 
the  house  —  evidently  expected  some  such  appli- 
cation ;  for  he  said,  in  a  rough  voice,  "  Well*  fel- 
low !  What  's  wanted  !  " 

"  My  father,"  faintly  articulated  Frank. 

"  Your  father  !  there   is  no  such  person  here." 

"  You  must  be  mistaken." 

"  No,  I  am  not,  youngster.  If  your  father  ha*> 
oeen  here  to  consult  the  Doctor,  he  is  not  hero 
now "  ;  and  the  waiter  was  about  to  close  the 
door. 

But  Frank,  hearing  the  well-known  voice  of 
that  beloved  relative,  rushed  by  the  servant  and 
ran  up  the  stairs  to  the  library,  in  spite  of  his 
bawling,  —  "  Halloo,  shipmate  !  I  tell  you  your 
father  is  not  in  ttts  house.  The  boy  must  be  rav- 
ing distracted." 

Being  disturbed  by  the  noise,  Dr.  Wood  step- 
ped out  of  his  library,  and  Frank  stood  before 
him. 

For  a  moment  they  both  remained  motionless 


HOME.  127 

and  speechless.  The  Doctor  hardly  believing  his 
own  eyes ;  Frank  amazed  at  his  father's  pale 
and  haggard  appearance. 

At  length  Dr.  Wood  exclaimed,  "  Great  God ! 
(  thank  thee!"  and  throwing  his  arms  around 
Frank's  neck,  pressed  him  to  his  grateful  heart. 

The  sailors,  who  left  the  Sally  Ann  in  the  long- 
boat, had  been  picked  up  by  a  homeward-bound 
vessel,  and  Wd  reached  New  York  about  a  month 
before  the  arrival  of  the  Sea-gull ;  bringing  the 
news  that  the  captain,  and  four  sailors,  went 
down  with  the  wreck  of  that  unfortunate  vessel. 
Dr  Wood  had  made  inquiry  of  one  of  these  sail- 
ors, and  learned  of  him  that  Frank  was  among 
the  lost. 

His  grief  at  the  melancholy  death  of  his  only 
son  was  such  as  to  have  occasioned  an  illness 
from  which  he  was  just  recovering,  and  which 
had  left  him  with  the  extreme  paleness  that  so 
much  alarmed  Frank.  He  received  his  noble- 
hearted  Frank  as  one  restored  from  the  dead. 
After  an  hour  spent  in  conversation,  as  he  looked 
into  the  bright  blue  eyes,  sparkling  with  pleasure, 
and  saw  the  fresh  healthy  countenance  of  Frank 
his  heart  was  overflowing  with  Christian  grati 


128  HOME. 

"  Poor  Brandon,  I  must  go  back  to  him,  for  he 
'trill  be  impatient  to  see  me,"  said  Frank. 
"  And  who  is  he  ?  "  inquired  Dr.  Wood- 
Frank  briefly  related  the  story  of  Joseph's  suf- 
ferings.    His  father  told  him  to  order  the  carriage 
and  bring  him  home  with  him  immediately  ;  add* 
ing,   "  Poor  boys  !    I  suppose  your  luggage  will 
easily  be  transported." 

Although  Frank  had  prepared  Joseph  to  expect 
to  see  in  his  father  a  perfect  gentleman,  he  was 
struck  with  the  elegance  and  dignity  of  Dr.  Wood  s 
appearance  ;  and  the  cordial  politeness  with  which 
he  received  him  put  him  at  once  entirely  at 
ease. 

After  two  days  spent  very  pleasantly  in  New 
YorK,  Brandon  began  to  be  extremely  anxious  to 
see  his  mother  and  sisters.  Frank  went  with  him 
to  make  arrangements  for  his  journey  home. 

The  morning  came  on  which  he  was  to  leave. 
Frank  had  been  so  faithful  and  persevering  in  his 
kindness  to  Joseph,  that  he  had  become  much 
attached  to  him.  It  is  a  principle  in  our  na- 
ture to  love  whatever  we  bestow  kindness  upon ; 
even 

u  The  bird  that  we  nurse,  is  the  bird  that  we  love." 

Joseph,   on   his   part,  felt  both   gratitude  and 


HOME.  129 

affection  towards  his  young  friend.  Though 
younger  than  himself,  he  had  looked  up  to  him 
for  advice  and  example.  By  that  example,  he 
had  corrected  his  erroneous  opinions  with  regard 
to  heing  a  gentleman.  He  saw  that  Frank  was 
very  different  from  the  ideal  that  his  own  mind 
had  furnished;  yet,  wherever  he  went,  he  was 
recognized  as  a  gentleman.  He  acknowledged  to* 
himself  how  much  Frank's  high  moral  principles 
had  contributed  to  this,  and  he  very  naturally 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not  best  for 
him  any  longer  to  be  a  gay,  dissipated  fop. 

When  Dr.  Wood  was  about  to  part  with  Joseph, 
he  put  into  his  hand  a  well-filled  purse,  saying, 
"  Mr.  Brandon,  I  will  not  subject  you  to  the 
pain  that  an  honorable,  independent  young  man. 
would  feel  at  receiving  pecuniary  obligation- 
Whenever  it  shall  be  perfectly  convenient,  you 
can,  if  you  like,  repay  me." 

"  Certainly,  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  do  so,'* 
replied  Joseph  ;  "  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  yout 
Sir." 

"  I  shall  be  in  no  haste  for  the  money,  and  am 
sure,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  you  will  have 
saved  more  than  that  amount  from  your  own 
earnings.  Keep  up  a  constant  correspondence 


130  HOME. 

with  Frank.  It  will  be  an  advantage  to  both  of 
you,  and  whenever  you  can  find  leisure  fron? 
more  important  avocations,  come  and  see  us.  1 
trust  I  shall  be  able,  during  the  coming  year,  to 
pay  you  a  visit,  with  Frank,  and  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  your  mother  and  sisters." 

When  the  boys  parted,  Frank  said,  "  Do  you 
know  Joseph,  that  this  is  my  birthday  ?  " 

"  I  did  not." 

4  It  is  ;  I  am  just  seventeen  ;  and  I  should  be 
perfectly  happy  were  I  not  obliged  to  part  with 
you.  But  let  us  try  to  meet  every  year  on  this 
anniversary,  and  then  we  shall  be  sure  to  keep 
up  our  friendship." 

Brandon's  heart  was  so  full  that  he  could  hard- 
ly reply.  He  thought  it  unmanly  to  shed  tears, 
and  brushed  away  the  intruders  from  his  eyes, 
Tears  that  flow  from  gratitude  are  no  mark  of 
weakness  in  man  or  woman ;  to  either,  they  are 
the  natural  expression  of  genuine  sensibility. 


CHAPTER   XX. 


ANOTHER  MEETING. 

BRANDON  pursued  his  way  homeward  as  fast  a? 
steamboats  and  locomotives  could  convey  him; 
yet,  to  his  eager  wishes,  they  seemed  to  move  but 
slowly. 

When  he  reached  Boston,  the  associations  con- 
nected with  that  place  were  painful  and  mortify- 
ing. 

"  What  a  silly  boy  was  I,  to  parade  about  these 
streets,  trying  to  make  people  think  I  was  some- 
body !  And  what  consequence  was  it  what  these 
passing  strangers  thought  of  me  ?  O,  it  was  too 
ridiculous/'  thought  Joseph. 

He  now  walked  across  the  city  quite  uncon- 
cernedly, in  his  sailor's  dress,  not  fearing  "  the 
world's  dread  laugh,"  and  took  passage  in  a 
stagecoach  for  his  native  village. 


32  ANOTHER   MEETING. 

As  he  rode  along,  sad  forebodings  filled  hia 
heart.  What  changes  might  have  taken  place ! 
As  the  well  known  spire  of  the  village  church 
came  in  sight,  it  was  impossible  to  restrain  those 
tears  which  appeared  to  have  burst  from  a  long 
time  sealed  up  fountain  ;  —  tears  of  penitence  for 
his  undutifulness  as  a  son,  his  unkindness  as  a 
brother.  They  were  as  refreshing  to  the  soul  as 
evening  dew  to  the  delicate  flower. 

Joseph  alighted  at  the  well  known  gate.  The 
roses  were  in  full  bloom  ;  the  grass,  fresh  and 
nicely  cut ;  every  thing  bore  the  air  of  comfort. 

With  a  trembling  hand  he  raised  the  latch,  open- 
ed the  door,  and  walked  into  the  parlour.  It  had 
undergone  an  entire  change  ;  not  one  familiar  ob- 
ject met  his  eye  among  the  new  and  handsome 
furniture  that  adorned  the  apartment. 

A  lady,  an  entire  stranger,  entered ;  and,  seeing 
a  sailor  thus  unceremoniously  surveying  the  room, 
she  was  about  to  scream  with  alarm,  when  Joseph, 
very  politely  bowing,  said, — 

"  Excuse  me,  Madam,  does  riot  Mrs.  Brandon 
live  here  ?  " 

"  She  does  not,"  replied  the  lady ;  "  she  has 
removed  to  the  small  cottage  on  the  other  side  of 
the  green." 


ANOTHER   MEETING.  135 

"  Do  you  know  if  she  and  her  family  are  well  *  *" 
inquired  Joseph,  with  a  tremulous  voice. 

"  Mrs.  Brandon  is  well,  I  believe,  but  one  of 
her  daughters  has  been  very  ill  for  some  time 
past,"  was  the  reply. 

Joseph  could  scarcely  articulate,  "Which 
one  ?  " 

The  lady  did  not  know.  Joseph  hurried 
across  the  green  to  the  small  cottage,  knocked 
at  the  door,  and  it  was  opened  by  Susan. 

"  Joseph !  Joseph  !  "  she  screamed,  and  threw 
her  arms  about  his  neck. 

Immediately  recovering  from  her  surprise,  she 
motioned  her  brother  to  remain  silent,  and  whis 
pered  in  his  ear,  "  Our  dear  Fanny  is  ill ;  so 
very  ill  that  there  is  but  little  hope  of  her  recov- 
ery. Come  in  softly." 

She  led  him  into  an  humble  little  parlour, 
where  were  crowded  the  familiar  movables  for 
which  he  had  looked  in  vain  at  his  mother's  own 
house.  Mrs.  Brandon  sat  by  the  bedside  of  her 
precious  child,  who  seemed  to  be  insensible. 
She  watched 

"  Her  breathing  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  breast  the  wave  of  life 
Kept  heaving  to  and  fro. 


134  ANOTHER   MEETING. 

Suddenly,  the  apparently  dying  girl  started, 
opened  her  eyes,  and  faintly  articulated,  — 

"  I  heard  Susan  call  Joseph.  Has  he  come 
home  ?  " 

"  I  will  go  and  see,  dearest,"  replied  Mrs. 
Brandon. 

She  hastened  to  the  parlour. 

"  Mother !  " 

It  was  all  that  Joseph  could  utter,  but  the 
word  came  up  from  the  depth  of  a  penitent  heart, 
and  volumes  could  not  have  expressed  to  that 
mother  all  which  the  tone  of  voice  conveyed. 
Never,  since  she  held  her  first-born  an  infant  in 
her  arms,  had  such  an  appeal  been  made  to  her 
love,  —  the  past  was  all  forgiven. 

Mrs.  Brandon  soon  hastened  back  to  Fanny. 

u  Mother,  has  brother  indeed  come  home  ?  " 
said  the  invalid. 

"  He  has,  Fanny.     Do  you  wish  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  I  do,  immediately,  for  I  fear  I  shall  remain 
but  a  very  short  time." 

Wasted  by  long  illness,  Fanny  was  but  the 
shadow  of  herself,  —  pale  even  to  ghastliness; 
she  seemed  already  to  have  approached  the  con- 
fines of  the  world  of  spirits  She  reached  out 
her  thin  white  hand  to  Joseph,  and  a  lovely  smile 
passed  over  her  wan  face. 


ANOTHER  MEETING.  135 

"Fanny,  my  own  sweet  sister!"  exclaimed 
Ac,  "  forgive  me  !  I  have  not  been  a  kind  brothei 
to  you." 

"  I  do  not  remember  that  I  have  any  thing  to 
forgive,"  she  replied,  pressing  his  hand  to  her 
lips.  "  I  have  not  long  to  live,  but  since  you  are 
restored  to  our  mother  and  Susan,  I  shall  die  con- 
tented. 

"  Do  not  speak  of  dying,  Fanny ;  I  trust  we 
shall  all  live  together  happily  many  years,"  said 
her  brother. 

"  Just  as  it  may  please  God,"  fervently  and 
solemnly  said  the  lovely  girl.  "  I  am  resigned  to 
his  holy  will." 

From  this  time  she  began  to  recover.  By  that 
wonderful  sympathy  *  that  exists  between  body  and 

*  The  celebrated  Dr.  Rush  relates  the  following  anec- 
dote : —  "During  the  time  that  I  passed  at  a  country 
school  in  Cecil  county  in  Maryland,  I  often  went,  on  a 
holyday,  with  my  schoolmates,  to  see  an  eagle's  nest,  up- 
on the  summit  of  a  dead  tree  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  school,  during  the  incubation  of  the  bird.  The 
daughter  of  the  farmer  in  whose  field  the  tree  stood,  and 
with  whom  I  became  acquainted,  married  and  settled  in 
this  city  (Philadelphia)  about  forty  years  ago.  In  our 
occasional  interviews,  we  now  and  then  spoke  of  'he  in- 
nocent haunts  and  rural  pleasures  of  our  youth,  and 
among  others  of  the  eagle's  nest  in  her  father's  field. 


136  ANOTHER   MEETING. 

mind,  no  sooner  was  the  latter  relieved  from  the 
weight  of  anxiety  that  had  long  pressed  upon  it, 
than  the  physical  system  was  equally  relieved. 
She  was  soon  restored  to  perfect  health. 

A  few  years  ago  I  was  called  to  visit  this  woman  when 
•die  was  in  the  lowest  stage  of  typhus  fever.  Upon  en- 
cering  the  room  1  caught  her  eye,  and  with  a  cheerful 
tone  of  voice  said,  only,  '  The  eagle's  nest.1  She  seized 
my  hand,  without  being  able  to  speak,  and  discovered 
strong  emotions  of  pleasure  in  her  countenance,  probably 
from  a  sudden  association  of  all  her  early  enjoyments 
With  the  words  which  I  uttered.  From  that  time  she  be- 
gan to  recover.  She  is  now  living,  and  seldom  fails, 
when  we  meet,  to  salute  me  with  the  echo  of '  The  ea- 
gle's nest.'  " 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


BETTER  HOPES. 

JOSEPH'S  letter,  from  Marseilles,  had  nol 
reached  Mrs.  Brandon,  and  not  one  word  had 
she  heard  from  him  during  his  absence.  She 
did  not  know  even  in  what  ship  he  had  embark- 
ed, and  her  anxiety  for  him  had  been  unceas- 
ing. 

Soon  after  he  left  home,  finding  her  affairs 
much  embarrassed,  she  leased  her  own  pretty 
house,  and  took  the  small  cottage.  In  this  way 
she  thought  she  should  be  able  to  pay  off,  in 
time,  the  debts  which  Joseph's  foolish  extrava- 
gance had  left  upon  her  hands. 

Fanny  had  been  a  long  time  in  delicate  health, 
and  her  illness  was  increased  by  the  troubles  that 
had  weighed  down  her  youthful  spirits. 

Sorrow,   and  sympathy  with   her  mother  and 


138  BETTER   HOPES. 

Fanny,  had  softened  the  harshness  of  Susan's 
character. 

"  Why,  Sue,"  said  Joseph,  a  few  days  after  his 
return,  "  I  should  scarcely  know  you ;  really  you 
are  much  improved." 

"  I  might  say  the  same  of  yourself,  Joseph,"1 
was  the  reply.  "  I  should  hardly  recognize  your 
former  self  in  your  conversation,  unless  when 
you  boast  of  that  6  famous  French  dinner-party,' 
or  speak  grandiloquently  of  your  great  friends,  — - 
the  '  Don  and  Donna  Francesco  Rebeiro.'  r 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  speak  boastingly  ;  I  thank 
you  for  the  hint,"  he  gently  replied,  "  and  hope 
I  shall  profit  by  it.  I  am  truly  grateful  to  those 
excellent  people.  I  intend  learning  French  and 
Portugese  as  soon  as  possible,  that  I  may  con 
verse  with  them  whenever  I  visit  them  again.  1 
used  to  feel  like  a  complete  simpleton  when  they 
were  all  talking  around,  and  I  was  not  able  to 
understand  a  single  sentence.  I  am  going  to  set 
myself  about  some  employment  whenever  I  have 
an  opportunity,  that  I  may  no  longer  be  a  bur- 
den to  our  kind  mother.  I  hope  to  relieve  the 
pressure  that  is  upon  her,  so  that  she  can  go 
back  again  to  her  own  house." 

"Bravely  spoken,  Joseph,"  said  Susan,  with  a 
Uttle  of  her  former  sarcastic  manner. 


BETTER   HOPES.  139 

"  A  nd  bravely,  by  God's  help,  shall  it  be  done,'5 
warmly  replied  Joseph. 

The  purse  that  Joseph  received  from  Dr. 
Wood  contained  one  hundred  dollars,  all  of 
which  remained,  excepting  the  amount  of  his  fare 
from  New  York. 

The  expenses  of  Fanny's  illness  had  pressed 
heavily  upon  Mrs.  Brandon.  Joseph  told  her  of 
the  generous  loan  he  had  received,  and  insisted 
that  she  should  make  use  of  half  of  it,  while  he 
would  carefully  use  the  remainder  until  he  found 
some  employment. 

"  I  have  been  so  entirely  occupied  since  your 
return,"  said  Mrs.  Brandon,  "  that  I  had  quite 
forgotten  to  tell  you  that  your  Uncle  Jones  has 
removed  to  Boston,  and  that  he  is  in  want  of  a 
clerk  in  his  counting-house.  Go  to  him  next 
week,  and  state  your  wishes  and  intentions,  and 
I  will  write  to  him  at  the  same  time.  I  have  no 
doubt  you  can  have  the  place,  if  you  wish  to  be 
a  merchant."" 

"  I  wish  for  any  honorable  employment, 
whereby  I  can  maintain  myself  respectably,  and 
in  time  support  you  and  my  sisters  in  a  comfort- 
able manner,"  replied  Joe  ;  "  and  as  Fanny  is  so 
much  better,  and  I  have  already  been,  home  a 
fortnight,  I  will  go,  if  you  think  best,  to-morrow.' 


140  BETTER    HOPES' 

"  I  am  sorry  to  part  with  you  so  soon,  but  per. 
haps  it  would  be  well  to  go  soon,  as  the  place 
may  not  long  remain  vacant.  Shall  you  go  in 
your  sailor  dress  ?  " 

"  No,  mother,  I  have  another  suit  that  I  have 
carefully  kept.  —  the  gift  of  kind  friends.  How 
many  excellent  people  there  are  in  the  world  1 
Yet  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  experienced  their 
kindness  had  it  not  been  for  the  unmistakable 
good-breeding  and  gentleman-like  deportment  of 
my  friend,  Frank  Wood." 

"  I  should  like  much  to  see  that  amiable  Frank 
Wood,"  said  Fanny.  "  I  wish  to  thank  him  for 
his  kindness  to  you." 

"  All  in  good  time,  Fanny  dear,"  said  Joseph. 
u  He  has  promised  to  make  us  an  early  visit," 

The  next  morning  Brandon  started  for  Boston, 
and  rode  on  the  outside  of  the  stajrocoach  with- 
out quarrelling  with  his  fellow-passengers,  —  a 
peaceable,  well-behaved  young  man,  intent  upon 
making  every  body  as  comfortable  as  possible. 

His  uncle,  although  he  received  him  kindly, 
looked  somewhat  askance  at  his  gay  foreign 
dress,  —  the  one  he  had  purchased  at  Fayal. 
Joseph,  observing  it,  said,  "  1  hope,  Sir,  if  you  re- 
ceive me  into  your  counting-room,  that  I  shall  soon 


BETTER   HOPES.  141 

be  able  to  purchase  a  more  suitable  dress  than 
this,  which  has  such  a  foreign  air." 

"  Such  a  foppish  air,"  replied  his  uncle. 
"  You  look  like  a  paroquet." 

"  It  is  too  foppish  entirely,  and  I  shall  be  right 
glad  to  exchange  it  for  one  of  American  manu- 
facture, and  true  Yankee  plainness,"  said  Jo- 
seph. 

"  That  you  shall  do  very  soon,  if  you  succeed, 
as  I  think  you  will.  When  can  you  begin  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  if  you  please,  sir." 

"  Well,  I  like  your  promptness.  The  salary  is 
five  hundred  dollars  a  year.  Be  honest  and  faith- 
ful, and  another  year  I  will  add  two  hundred 
more  to  it." 

The  morning  -found  Joseph  seated  among  a 
number  of  other  clerks  in  a  large  counting-room. 
At  first,  he  was,  of  course,  ignorant  and  awkward, 
but  so  great  was  his  desire  for  improvement  that 
he  soon  overcame  all  obstacles. 

Faithful  and  honest  he  was,  giving  entire  satis- 
faction to  his  uncle,  and  gaining  the  good  will  of 
all  with  whom  he  was  associated. 

The  first  present  that  Joseph  made,  from  his 
own  salary,  after  he  had  remitted  the  hundred 
<iol^ars  to  Dr.  Wood,  was  a  pretty  purse  to  Fanny, 


142  BETTER   HOPES. 

with  three  five-dollar  pieces  shining  through  the 
meshes.  This  was  at  the  end  of  the  first  half 
year.  The  correspondence  between  Frank  and 
himself  had  been  sustained  with  undiminished  in- 
terest on  both  sides.  He  learned  that  Frank  occa- 
sionally heard  from  his  foreign  friends,  and  that 
the  Don  and  Donna  expected  soon  to  pay  a  visit 
to  the  United  States. 


.-\f. 


CHAPTER   XXIL 


AN  UNEXPECTED  RESOLVE. 

So  well  had  Joseph  Brandon  satisfied  his  em- 
ployer that  he  promised  to  raise  his  salary,  as  he 
had  intimated  at  their  first  interview.  During 
the  year  which  was  now  nearly  at  an  end,  he  had 
been  so  economical  as  to  live  within  his  income, 
pay  Dr.  Wood,  and  make  several  presents  to  his 
mother  and  sisters  ;  yet  he  had  always  dressed 
with  neatness,  and  bearded  in  a  respectable  fam- 

ay- 

The  family  who  had  taken  his  mother's  house 
wisneu  to  give  it  up,  to  remove  to  the  city  ;  and 
Joseph  gladly  persuaded  his  mother  to  return  to 
it  again,  promising  to  make  up  the  difference  be- 
tween the  rent  and  that  of  the  small  cottage. 

Mrs,  Brandon  consented  to  do  so.  Susan  aud 
Fanny  were  delighted  to  return  to  their  own 


144  AN   UNEXPECTED   RESOLVE. 

home,  —  and  still  more  so,  because  it  was  through 
the  generosity  of  their  brother.  They  had  just 
become  nicely  settled  when  they  received  a  visit 
from  Joseph,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Wood  and 
Frank. 

It    was    Frank's    eighteenth    birthday.      His  • 
health,  since  his  return,  had  remained  perfectly 
good;   and   having   decided   upon   following   his 
father's  profession,  he  had  commenced  his  prepar- 
atory studies. 

The  yarns  that  they  had  to  spin,  when  they 
found  themselves  tete-a-tete,  were  as  long  as 
those  with  which  they  whiled  away  the  lazy  hours 
on  board  ship. 

•'Have  you  heard  from  Louise  La  Tourette, 
lately  ?  "  inquired  Joseph.  "  I  perceive  you  still 
wear  her  parting  gift.  A  very  sentimental  motto, 
— '  Pensez  a  moi ! ' " 

"  Madame  La  Tourette  wrote  to  me  not  long 
since  that  they  confidently  expected  a  visit  from 
me.  She  was  so  kind  as  to  say  that  Louise 
would  never  forget  her  American  friends,"  said 
Frank. 

"  It  is  a  pity  that  you  were  not  a  little  old&r 
when  you  became  acquainted  with  Mademoiselle ," 
responded  Joseph. 


AN   UNEXPECTED   KESOLVE.  14«> 

Frank  blushed  deeply  as  he  replied,  "  I  am  too 
young  to  think  much  of  such  high  concerns  as 
matrimony,  if  that  is  what  you  intimate ;  yet  I 
must  say,  that  if  in  after  years  I  do  enter  into  tha 
condition,  I  hope  my  lady-love  may  resemble 
your  sweet  sister  Fanny." 

"She  could  not  resemble  a  better  girl,"  was 
Joseph's  reply.  Then,  changing  the  subject  ab- 
ruptly, he  said,  — "  Frank,  why  was  it  that  you 
never  lectured  me  on  board  ship  ?  You  saw  me 
rough  and  rude  as  a  bear,  and  far  more  disagree- 
able ;  yet  you  led  me  gently  to  follow  your  exam- 
ple. I  have  often  thought  of  it  with  wonder,  how 
you  could  have  gained  such  an  irresistible  influ- 
ence over  me.  That  Temperance  pledge  that  I 
gave  you  I  have  scrupulously  kept,  and  it  has 
doubtless  saved  me  from  immense  evils.  Was  I 
not  a  constant  source  of  mortification  to  you  on 
shore  ? " 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  Joseph." 

"  Well,  Frank,  I  have  given  up  all  idea  of  be- 
ing a  gentleman,  as  I  then  understood  the  word, 
and  shall  be  quite  contented  if  I  can  become  what 
I  once  despised,  —  a  respectable  man." 

u  T  have  no  doubt,  Joseph,  that  you  will  become 


146  AN   UNEXPECTED    RESOLVE. 

both  in  time.  If  it  is  not  an  impertinent  question, 
how  old  is  your  sister  Fanny  ? " 

"  Sixteen,  —  sweet  sixteen." 

Dr.  Wood  was  much  pleased  with  the  Brandonsi 
and  invited  them  all  to  pay  him  a  visit  in  New 
York,  whenever  Don  Francesco  and  his  lady  ar- 
rived. 

It  was  not  many  weeks  after  their  return  home 
that  the  good  Doctor  and  Frank  wrote  to  announce 
their  arrival.  Mr.  Jones  gave  Joseph  permis- 
sion to  accompany  his  mother  and  sisters  to  New 
York. 

The  Don  and  Donna  were  agreeably  surprised 
to  hear  Joseph  address  them  in  French  and  Por- 
tuguese. He  had  so  diligently  applied  himself  tu 
the  study  of  these  languages  during  his  leisure 
hours,  that  he  already  spoke  them  with  some  fa- 
cility. 

Frank  Wood's  good  opinion  of  Fanny  did  not 
suffer  on  a  more  intimate  acquaintance.  He 
was  delighted  to  hear  the  Donna  say  that  she  hal 
the  most  charming  smile  and  the  most  dove-like 
eyes  that  she  ever  saw.  He  was  almost  as  much 
pleased  when  she  spoke  of  Joseph's  improve™ 
rnent. 

"My  father,"  said    Frank,   "  thinks  he  will 


AN   UNEXPECTED   RESOLVE.  147 

make  one  of  the  most  respectable  merchants  in 
Boston,  And  allow  me  to  tell  you  that  it  is  say- 
ing a  great  deal,  for  there  are  no  more  polished 
gentlemen  in  our  country  than  some  of  the  Boston 
merchants." 

"  I  like  him  exceedingly,  and  hope  he  will  soon 
pay  us  another  visit,"  said  the  Donna. 

"  He  may  possibly  no  so.  for  Mr.  Jones  intends 
sending  him  to  Europe  on  business.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  Madame  and  Mademoiselle 
La  Tourette  should  not  recognize  him,  he  is  so 
much  improved  since  '  that  famous  French  din- 
ner.'" 

"  Did  I  not  hear  you  speak  of  Mademoiselle  La 
Tourette  ?  "  inquired  Joseph,  who  had  caught  the 
sound  of  her  name. 

"  I  said,  Joseph,  that  she  would  scarcely  rec- 
ognize you ;  so  much  have  you  changed  of 
late." 

"  Then  I  must  beg  your  ring,  to  serve  as  a  tal- 
isman when  I  shall  see  her  again.  Will  you  give 
it  to  me  ?  I  am  going  to  Marseilles  before  many 
months." 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it,"  replied  Frank,  tak- 
ing it  from  his  finger.  "  I  hope  you  will  wear 
it  at  another  famous  French  dinner-party." 


14S  AN   UNEXPECTED   RESOLVE. 

"  O,  better  than  that,"  replied  his  friend,  press- 
ing the  ring  upon  his  little  finger.  "  I  hope  it 
may  be  worn  at  the  famous  wedding-party  of  Mrs. 
Joseph  Brandon." 

After  a  few  weeks  spent  in  seeing  whatever 
New  York  affords  to  interest  a  stranger,  the  Bran- 
dons returned  home.  The  Don  and  Donna  accom- 
panied them  to  Boston,  and  then  pursued  their 
journey  through  the  United  States. 

Brandon  returned  to  his  counting-room,  with 
a  firmer  resolution  than  ever  to  be  an  honorable 
and  upright  merchant, — and  a  Christian  gentle- 
man. 


THE    FN  C 


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Tuthill,  L.C.H.          T5 
I  will  be  a  gentleman.  18 


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